Ore no Sonzai
by kaliawai512
Summary: Yami looked at his hand. He wiggled his fingers. He pinched his arm, and he flinched when it hurt. It couldn't be real, and yet somehow it was. He was ... solid. Slight what-if, pre-Egypt arc. Non-romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, it seems you've stumbled upon my first multi-chapter fic for YuGiOh. Welcome! If you're a new reader, I really hope you like my writing. And if you're one of those who have been following some or all of my oneshots for a number of months, I hope my first chapter fic pleases you. **

**Anyway. On to business. Business being that this story should be established as a "what-if" story, and is, in some way, a little bit AU (simply because I think the chances that this sort of thing really happened in canon are … slim). Which is something I rarely, _rarely _do, not because I have anything against it, but just because I'm obsessed with sticking to anime canon in my own work. So this story does _not _take place in the same universe as all my oneshots and other future stories. It exists on its own.**

**Granted, this isn't terribly AU. It takes place somewhere in the timeline between KC Grand Prix and the Memory World arc in the Japanese anime, which I figured was a significant gap (hey, Yuugi had to decide to go to Egypt, figure out how to get there, get a good chunk of money, buy his ticket …). I have read so very many fun stories where Yami has his own body, either temporarily or as a standard, and I couldn't resist the writing mischief one could make with the concept. There were just too many things to be done. I only hope that I can take my own unique spin on this old idea.  
><strong>

**Rated for potential references to violence and angst, and the tiniest bit of slightly rude language. It's non-romance, as is just about everything I write for this fandom. So nothing intentionally romantic between any of the characters. As always, though, you're the reader. Read it as you please. But despite having plenty of unpleasant issues and angst and such things, this may turn out to be fluffier than much of the stuff I write, so I feel it especially necessary to state that no romantic themes were intended.**

**Well, then, I very much hope you enjoy my first multi-chapter work for this fandom, and my first at all for any fandom in a long, long time. Please leave a review when you're done!**

**Oh, and Happy New Year! **

1

It was a dark and stormy night.

Of course, of all the evenings when he wasn't out saving the world and there were no malevolent madmen out to get him, and he just decided to have a fun evening out with his friends at the local carnival instead of traveling across countries and playing card games of life and death, it _would _bea dark and stormy night. Rain hadn't even been in the _forecast, _and by everything he knew to swear to, he had checked. Yet here it was, pouring and plummeting onto the concrete outside the game shop, pattering against the window, thunder occasionally shaking the very foundation of the building and lightning shooting across the sky as if Zeus was playing darts.

This downright sucked.

He wasn't sure if he heard a motion of agreement or a snicker in the back of his head as he sighed, his face pressed against the window so his nose bent and he felt the slight chill on his skin. His eyebrows furrowed. He flicked his eyes up to the angry, swirling, vaguely purple clouds above him, but he did not move.

_Mou hitori no boku?_

This time he heard a chuckle. He _knew _he heard a chuckle. Especially when the chuckle was cut off by realization, and even Yuugi could feel the hint of embarrassment seeping through the link.

He thought he heard someone clear their throat. _Yes, Aibou?_

The chill of the window felt like ice on Yuugi's cheek.

_ Are you _laughing _at me?_

If the resounding silence hadn't given him his answer—which it most definitely had—the stronger flustered tension following it stamped that answer with a fancy wax seal. He felt the presence fidget.

_Of course not, Aibou. Why would I laugh at you?_

Normally, hearing his other self sound so downright _nervous _would have been funny, but right now, Yuugi was a tad too ticked off to take the obvious humor. He pulled back from the window, feeling the glass suck at his cheeks, and crossed his arms over his chest.

_Mou hitori no boku, _he began, but the retort he had been working on fled from his grasp, and he was left standing there, silent, unfinished.

Another intangible fidget. _Yes, Aibou?_

Yuugi sighed. _Nothing._

Oh, if he could have seen the spirit's face right now, he knew he would have nearly smacked him upside the head. But he didn't need to see him to know the expression was there, and he knew very well that smacking him upside the head was quite impossible.

But still.

He finally gave up on staring at the rain and stepped back to sink into the couch in the living room. His friends wouldn't actually be here for a while anyway. He had time to kill. He could watch the news. He could look through his deck. He could browse the new games Jii-chan had put up in the shop and see if there was anything remotely interesting that he hadn't already played.

He sank further into the couch, put his arms out to his sides, and let out a long and unnecessarily loud sigh.

_No offense, Aibou, but you sound _really _pathetic right now._

Yuugi flicked his eyes to the ceiling, even though he knew there was no image up there to look back at him. _I know, I know. I'm just … bored._

A pause. _You can talk to me._

Yuugi let his lips twitch into a grin, and he laughed a little. He sensed the bit of hurt that shot through his other self, and he quickly stopped his chuckles and shook his head, sending all the reassuring emotions he had learned how to send over the many months of having someone in his own head to send them _to._

_I'm not laughing at _that, _it's just that that's obvious. _The feelings in his head calmed and quirked their eyebrow, and he offered the ceiling another smile. _You know. You're always here. And I like that! But, I mean … is there anything we _haven't _talked about already?_

Another pause. And this time, even though Yuugi knew he didn't actually sense a smirk, he could so easily have imagined it. But the mental voice came with a tone decidedly stoic and matter-or-fact.

_The weather._

Yuugi slipped further down in the couch, and he blinked several times before he realized that he hadn't just been making a joke. _The … weather?_

_ Yes. _His other self's tone was rather "no duh" now, but somehow still dignified. _We haven't talked about the weather before, that I can remember._

_ But … mou hitori no boku, it's the _weather.

_Yes. Many people talk about the weather, don't they?_

Yuugi gave a tiny cringe. _Well, yeah, but …_

_ But what?_

Yuugi opened his mouth as if to give a very loud verbal response, but managed to catch himself before he actually yelled for the entire game shop to hear, and probably made himself sound even more insane to Jii-chan than he already did. He sighed.

_Usually, mou hitori no boku, _he started, and he tried very hard to make his tone as gentle as possible, especially when he sensed an unusual sensitivity within the spirit in his mind. _When people talk about the weather, they do it as a truly last resort._

He was met only with baffled silence.

When he was about to say something to try and break it—even if it _did _have to be commenting on the rather obvious weather outside—he heard a somewhat quieter voice break into his mind.

_Well … you know, Aibou, we should probably talk about—_

The doorbell rang, and Yuugi just about fell off the couch.

The voice in his head went silent again, and no matter how much Yuugi wanted to tell him to continue, he just scrambled to his feet and toward the side door to the house only his mother ever used, slipping on the carpet and offering a somewhat messy "Coming!" to whoever was standing outside in the rain.

He supposed that after all this time spent around his friends, it should have come to no surprise to him that he knew who was at the door before he even opened it. Even still, though, he brushed away the thought of who it had to be until he turned the knob and pulled open the door.

"Hey, Yuugi!"

"How's it going?"

"Hi, Yuugi!"

Familiar greetings. But though he had heard them a million times over, through Duelist Kingdom and Battle City and the whole fiasco in America, they still made something within him glow and the smile on his face gleam just a little brighter than before.

And though he had never asked to be sure, he always had a feeling his other self smiled when their friends came by, too.

Apparently Anzu had been the only one to bring an umbrella—not that Yuugi was particularly surprised, but he still gave looks of sympathy at the soaked-to-the-bone taller boys who followed him inside, dripping puddles on the floor. Anzu merely rolled her eyes and said that it had been raining for well over an hour, and if they had wanted to avoid the weather they could bring their own umbrella or ask to borrow one.

Yuugi couldn't figure out if it was pride or just annoyance that kept Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun silent as they tried to dry themselves off as much as possible in the genkan before shuffling through the hallway into the main living room of the house.

Honda-kun rearranged his drooping wet spike of hair and breathed the long sigh of one who has just run a kilometer in unfortunate weather and is only hopeful at this point that he does not catch a cold.

"So, no carnival," he began with a matter-of-fact tone Anzu did not seem to appreciate, at which Jounouchi-kun smirked. "What can we do _inside?_"

Silence. Yuugi turned his gaze back and forth between his friends, each with a hand on their head or a finger on their chin, or their arms crossed in a new expression of thought he found a little bit funny.

It was nearly half a minute later when Jounouchi-kun looked up with a pose that almost made him look like a scholar.

"…Twister?"

Anzu flinched and snapped to look him flat in the eyes, and Yuugi flinched when she put her hands to her hips like one might look upon a nine-year-old who had just buried his younger siblings in dirty clothes.

"Jounouchi, that game's just dumb!"

Yuugi's lips quirked into the shyest of shy grins. "Sorry, Jounouchi-kun, I don't have Twister."

"But you live in a _game _shop!"

Yuugi breathed a tiny breath he supposed might have sounded annoyed if it weren't for the nervous smile quirking onto his lips. "We don't carry _all _American games. Otogi-kun might have it."

Jounouchi-kun scoffed and slumped his shoulders in a pout Yuugi had yet to see any other boy his age successfully pull off. "No way am I walking up to his shop in _that._"

He flicked his eyes at the nearest window, and then to the door, and Yuugi's eyes followed him. The rain pattered against the glass of the window and the thunder and flashes of lightning made the world outside shake. Yuugi turned his gaze back to Jounouchi-kun, and noticed he was still dripping water on the floor.

"How about a movie, then?" Anzu piped in. She shifted her pale violet bag on her shoulder and titled her head. "I brought a few with me."

Jounouchi-kun groaned.

"Aww, Anzu, that's boring! Let's do something exciting! Like … videogames!"

Honda-kun grinned. "Yeah!"

Anzu gawked. "Videogames?"

Yuugi swallowed—or, more accurately, gulped—as Anzu took a step toward the two of them, focusing on Jounouchi-kun. He might have said something, or at least opened his mouth to give an opinion, but this was the sort of time that he wouldn't have put it past either side of the war to shoot him on sight if he dared pick a side.

So he took a step away as Jounouchi-kun stepped forward in threat, and Honda-kun crossed his arms over his chest and might have looked like an angry mother if not for him being the tallest member of the group.

"What's wrong with videogames?"

Anzu's eyebrows shot up, and she mimicked his pose, except her rendition really _did _look like an angry mother. Yuugi's mother, to be precise, and if that didn't give a good warning that he should steer clear, Yuugi didn't think anything would.

She lowered her brow. Yuugi could almost imagine her growling. "We came here to hang out!"

Jounouchi-kun gave a decided, definite nod.

"And we will! While we play videogames!"

"We're watching a movie!" Anzu almost shouted, if she hadn't held such control over her voice.

Jounouchi-kun wrinkled his brow. "Videogames!"

"Movie!"

"Videogames!"

"Movie!"

"Movie!"

"Videog—_hey!_"

Even though he had to back up to the wall to avoid getting caught in the crossfire of the argument—or Honda-kun's darting around the room to search for the Mutou videogame stash—the smile never once left Yuugi's face. The smile of his three best friends, all together, even if all they did was fight instead of actually getting anything done. They were his friends. And that was all that mattered.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, Yuugi was quite sure he could feel someone else smiling, too.

* * *

><p>He supposed some people might have been disappointed that half the time the movie was playing, the audio had been indistinguishable from the sounds of the computerized music and binging of videogames on the second TV dug out from the storage closet.<p>

Well, Yuugi would at least have expected _Anzu _to be disappointed.

But after about ten minutes of rolling her eyes and leaning in close to the screen to hear what was going on in the movie she had probably seen five times already, she gave in and scooted over next to Yuugi to watch Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun fire away with their virtual guns and laugh at the graphics that had been obsolete for years.

Yuugi never _did _end up getting his turn to play the game, given that every time they came to a good stopping point Jounouchi-kun shouted a challenge to Honda-kun. But he didn't really mind that either.

_Tonight was fun, wasn't it, Aibou?_

Yuugi jolted and nearly tripped over his own feet on the way to the bed.

He could have sworn he heard snickering the back of his head, very similar to the voice that echoed in his mind and in his ears at the same time, never quite giving him enough sensory information to decide if he could really hear it. But by the time he regained his balance all he saw was the levitating, transparent form of his other self a meter away from the bed, arms crossed over his chest and head cocked to the side, his lips curled into what was almost, but not quite, his version of a smile.

"Hm?" Yuugi flopped onto the bed and crossed his legs to grip his bare ankles. He grinned. "Oh, yeah! It was great!"

His other self's smile grew, and Yuugi let go of his ankles with a quick breath in. Something heavy settled in his chest, and his gaze fell. He shook his head.

"Oh …"

The smile disappeared. The spirit seemed, in all the ways a spirit could, to tense. "What is it?"

Yuugi looked at him, and that confused expression, transparent as it was, had never been more real. Eyes a little wide and blinking, eyebrows raised, and that hint of worry Yuugi had grown so used to that he knew he shouldn't have been surprised to see it now.

He fidgeted, twisting his fingers together in his lap, and sighed. "I should have let you come out for a while. Sorry."

He breathed out again, and would not allow himself to look away, no matter how much he wanted to. His other self looked back with eyes not quite readable, despite how carefully Yuugi had studied his myriad of strange looks. Old-yet-young eyes blinked though he was quite sure they did not need to blink, and surprise made away for softness and a quirk of the head.

"Aibou, why are you apologizing?" His lips turned up. Not into a full smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I would have said something if there was a problem. There isn't."

Yuugi hesitated and bit the inside of his lip.

"But … you deserve to hang out with them. They're your friends, too, you know."

His other self's smile dropped its concern, and his posture relaxed. "Tonight was _yours _to have fun." One corner of his lips twitched into a faint smirk. "And believe me, I had _plenty _of fun just listening to them."

Yuugi bit his lip to keep his snickers from turning into a full-out laugh. Something within him lifted and lightened, and somehow he had a feeling his other self knew.

"Yeah, I guess that _is _pretty entertaining, huh?"

His other self just chuckled and nodded in return.

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Yuugi asked after the snickers in his throat had died down. He shifted on the bed, and his other self crossed his arms over his chest in that manner that somehow seemed dignified and royal regardless still. His smile did not fade.

"You'd know if I wasn't."

Yuugi blinked, then gave a nervous giggle.

"Right." He looked to the floor. He stared at the dents his feet had pressed down, and where they pushed back up with the lack of weight. He looked up and met his other self's eyes again. He grinned. "Well, next time they all come over, it's _your _turn!"

His other self's lips parted in his own version of a dropping jaw. "Aibou …"

"Really!" Yuugi leaned forward almost enough to fall from the bed. "And like you said, I can have fun just watching. Getting a word in once they get going is pretty tough anyway."

A chuckle. Just a brief one, just enough to appreciate the humor of it all.

But then that chuckle faded into silence, and the smile of amusement turned into one of odd appreciation. Appreciation of kindness that perhaps only Yuugi could understand.

The smile softened further, and the violet eyes twinkled with moonlight that could not, for all laws of physics, have truly reflected upon his eyes, but did anyway.

"Thank you, Aibou."

His other self smiled. Yuugi looked at him, and a moment later, he smiled, too.

And never, not once in all the time they had been together, had his other self ever stood there and looked more fitting and more like this was exactly where he belonged.

The smile turned to a smirk. "Now, off to bed."

Yuugi's jaw fell.

"Since when do you tell me when to go to bed?" He leaned his head back and flicked his eyes toward the little clock at the head of his bed. His eyebrows lowered and he turned with a half-mocking glare. "It's only ten-thirty! I'm wide awake!"

The arms over his other self's chest tightened, and he cocked an eyebrow just enough to show. "Oh? Do I have to use magic to put you to sleep?"

"You don't even know howto _do_ that."

A blink. Lips pursed, something between an annoyed frown and a hidden smirk.

"… you're right, I don't. But still. You need sleep."

Yuugi lowered his eyebrows in what he suspected was hardly a good example of annoyance. "No I do—"

His words were cut off with a wide and long yawn.

He blinked and held back a blush, particularly when the next thing he heard was a muffled snicker and the transparent hand of the nearby spirit clamped over his mouth. But Yuugi didn't roll his eyes or scowl. He just smiled, a gentle, tired smile, and sighed.

"Okay, okay."

He climbed under the covers, twisting his legs until they were comfortable and snug, and laid his head down on the pillow. He felt the gentle glow of the moon bathe him in a shimmering light, and he felt the coziness of his bed and his room around him, and the hominess it carried with it.

And standing in that ethereal form at the end of the bed, just as he always did, was his other self, smiling down on him with a smile gentler than any he dared to wear around anyone else, eyes soft and caring, the ties that bound them almost tangible in that one instant Yuugi wished so very dearly would never fade away.

He smiled back, particularly sleepy, as his eyes drooped and another yawn threatened to force itself out. He slipped the familiar chain from around his neck and laid the heavy, not-quite-warm weight of the Millennium Puzzle on the pillow next to his head. He breathed out, and his eyes drooped more.

"Goodnight, mou hitori no boku."

Yuugi did not look up to be sure of the expression on his other self's face. But he could have sworn that the smile grew kinder, and the old but young violet eyes glistened a bit more in moonlight he could not reflect, or in emotion he hardly let himself show.

Except for now.

_Sweet dreams, Aibou._

And though it was impossible to tell, Yuugi imagined their smiles matched in perfect synchrony as he closed his eyes and let the darkness pull him down into sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Tugging.<em>

_ Something pulling, grabbing, yanking at the inside of him. Fight. No, fight it, don't let it take it. Don't let it. No! Fight!_

_ The darkness closing in on him, can't see, but can't give in. Can't let them get away. Can't let them take it. He pulled back, tried to hold on, tried to keep it close to him, keep it near, keep it safe. But pulling, harsh, tugging, _hurt _deep in his insides. Pulling hard. Pulling it away. Further and further, slipping away, leaving him alone …_

_ No!_

_ Don't go, don't let it go, don't let it—_

_ Thud._

Yuugi opened his eyes.

He focused on the ceiling above him, the colors swirling and finally clearing into the shapes that made up his skylight and the colors of the paint. He blinked twice and shifted under his sheets. The emotions dug up from the dream still bounced within him, his heart pounding in panic. Sweat dribbling down his face. Faint shivers wracking his body.

He breathed.

Still, the memories were vague, and becoming vaguer by the second. His mind calmed, and by some instinct even he was not fully aware of, he reached to the side on his pillow and lay a hand over the smooth gold of the Puzzle. It was here. It was safe. He was here, and he was safe. Everything was fine.

"Aibou?"

A smile worked its way onto Yuugi's face, though his heart still pounded against his chest, and he was just getting rid of the last bouts of shivers. He wiped his sleeve across his forehead coated in sweat. "Yes, mou hitori no boku?"

A pause. Just a little too long for comfort.

"Aibou …"

Yuugi's eyes, which had started to close as the panic was replaced by tiredness, snapped open. The weakness in the voice struck him, as did the uncertainty, the worry, something bordering on flat-out _fear. _

But that wasn't what made his stomach nearly come up his throat.

The voice wasn't loud and clear inside his head. It always had been, from the very beginning when he had learned to use the mind link. Even if his other self's image was all the way across the room, his voice was always close by, as if he was speaking directly into his head. But this voice …

… it was quiet.

And far away.

Hesitant and gentle from just beside his bed.

Yuugi sat up so fast he nearly knocked the breath out of himself and turned his head.

There was his other self. On the floor, next to his bed, on his stomach and trying to pick himself up. He trembled, though it was hard to see in the pale light of the room. Yuugi couldn't see much more than the basic form of the spirit as he turned his head to look back at him. His violet eyes glimmered, reflecting the glow of the moon.

_Reflecting._

Yuugi scrambled to lean over the edge of the bed, almost falling off, and he felt himself grip the sheets. His eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and the form near him grew clearer and clearer. And his other self pushed himself further off the ground, stumbling every second, dazed, dizzy and heavy. As if …

He was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming. It was the only explanation, either that or he truly _was _losing his mind. Yuugi stayed on the bed for several seconds longer, watching in dumb shock as his other self picked himself up, fell as his arm gave way like wet clay, and finally managed to get himself to his knees. He turned his head and looked Yuugi straight in the face, his eyebrows raised, his eyes blinking and wide.

Yuugi pulled one leg out from the covers, then the other, and slipped down to the floor so slow he might have been a shadow himself. He fell to his knees, and he just sat there as his other self looked back.

He could see his mouth open, his chest moving up and down as he breathed, tired. But his other self still stared back, even though he looked about ready to collapse again. Yuugi raised an arm, so hesitant he wasn't sure at first if he was moving at all. His fingers twitched and reached, and he held his hand up toward his other self's face.

And he felt the warm, smooth flesh of his cheek.

The breath he drew in shook, and it felt sharp and cold. It matched the uneven breathing of his other self, syncing up, perfect and yet so very flawed. He ran that finger along the flesh, and with each moment, he felt his other self stiffen and flinch at the unfamiliar touch.

Yuugi swallowed.

"You're solid," came the whisper so quiet he almost didn't hear it. "You're … real."

His other self just stared back at him in wonder and daze, as if he hadn't said anything at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the great response to the first chapter! All the reviews, favorites, alerts … they are very much appreciated!**

**Well, one chapter in, and we're already getting started! The adventures of the plot will come soon, but first, we have the confusing mess of the characters to deal with. The fluff in this chapter is not meant to imply romance of any sort (though you can all take it as you wish), and in fact was not meant to be fluff: it has a point. But, well, it turned out as it did, so I thought this was worth mentioning: try to imagine going all your existence with only scarce experience with the sense of touch, and now you've suddenly been given it. Hard to imagine, but try. Think of that as you read, regardless of the point of view.**

**For all my reviewers to this story and others, again, thank you so much! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to respond not only to reviews, but to private messages as well … I honestly get so many that my inbox floods and I have to work through them bit by bit. And since the site has a weird way of keeping track of reviews (it now makes me respond via PM, and therefore won't tell me if I've already responded to a review or not), I'm so sorry if I missed a reply on any! I appreciate all your responses and messages more than I can say.**

**I should give a heads-up that this story may go a bit slower than I had intended (also the reason that this chapter is being posted somewhat later than I had intended). I just received news yesterday that my great aunt passed away (she was always more of an aunt to me). Apparently, she had Addison's disease, and we think that was a cause (an autopsy has yet to be performed, so we're not sure). In any case, though I hadn't seen her in a number of months, she was one of the extended family members I was closest to, so writing may be a bit … difficult for a little while. But I fully intend on continuing this story and my oneshots, though it may be more after the funeral.**

**I very much hope you all enjoy this, and please leave a review when you're done!**

2

Yuugi had had hundreds of dreams since he had solved the Millennium Puzzle.

Most of them were normal dreams. The ones where he was dueling in his underwear in the middle of third period or the ones where Jounouchi-kun and Anzu got married and joined the circus and he somehow ended up as an elephant in their act, or the ones where he flew across the sky all night and watched everyone he knew and the lives they lived, and they never noticed him as he fly by. They never even looked up at all.

But even he could not stop the Puzzle from getting into his head.

And some nights, he would dream about shadows reaching for him, hands in the shadows, faces that weren't really faces, screeches and cries that rivaled anything he had seen on the late-night horror movies his mom told him not to watch. And no matter how loud he screamed no one would come for him, not even the flickering face that looked like him but _wasn't _him in the distance, that watched with eyes that burned and cried out but could never move to help.

Then, there were the dreams when the face in the distance was really there.

The dreams where he spent entire days at amusement parks or going out for burgers with his other self, never once questioning the strangeness of it all, as if things had always been like that, as if that was how things would always be.

So he had a feeling that if this had been a dream, he probably wouldn't be staring with eyes that bulged out of his skull.

"Mou hitori no … boku?"

The words were real. They lingered in the air like they were real, and they felt real on his lips and as they bounced back to his own ears. His other self blinked, a motion slow and unfamiliar, and he pursed his lips. Yuugi watched as his other, sitting right in front of him, clenched his fists and let them go, ran fingers across his own arm, reached to touch the same spot on his cheek where Yuugi's hand still lingered in flat-out disbelief.

And it took all Yuugi's energy not to jerk back when he felt the pulse of a heart and the flowing of blood within those thin fingers, and on that face that stared right back into his.

"You're …" Yuugi swallowed, this time a bigger lump in his throat than he had thought there could be. "You're … how?"

Yuugi bit his lip at his own stupidity for even thinking that his other self would know how this had happened. The expression on his face was enough to show that he was just as confused—if not doubly so—as Yuugi, almost to the point of yanking out his own hair and screeching to the skies.

But his other self just shook his head, his real head with hair just like his and not-quite-the-same violet eyes, so slow and uncertain, and breathed out a breath that shook.

"I … I don't know, Aibou."

The voice was real. So real it made Yuugi shudder and the breath catch in his throat, not like the voice in the back of his mind. A real voice with a mouth that formed words, lips that had to move, a throat that moved, a chest that rose and fell.

Real. Real like nothing Yuugi had ever seen.

Yuugi didn't know what he was doing when he moved forward again, just enough to look more clearly in the dim light of the moon at the face he had never before seen so clear.

"Are you okay?"

His other self looked at Yuugi, and back at himself, back at the hand he held near his face with fingers wiggling and wrist turning with so many new muscles and joints to test. He nodded, and from the widening of his eyes, that too was a novel feel. "… yes … I think so."

Yuugi wanted to stop staring. He wanted to smack himself across the face and find an explanation, find something to say, at least _do _something more useful than staring at the spirit in a body that had appeared from nothing, right in front of him, a bodiless ghost turned solid. And all he could do was sit here and stare.

He shook his head, and for a moment he almost thought it was him that felt the movement so new.

"This is …"

Yuugi slipped a hand up to his pillow on the bed to pull on a chain with the utmost gentleness, and slipped his fingers around the smooth gold of the Puzzle to hold it between them in the air. His other self hesitated, furrowed his brow, and brushed three fingers along the Puzzle as well. Yuugi breathed in deep.

He shook his head again. He looked up at his other self, and his other self looked up at him. Both their mouths opened at once, like the word was right in front of their lips and they just had to reach out and taste it.

"Impossible."

And their voices somehow sounded as two and as one.

Yuugi looked at his other self once more, and his other self looked back. And a moment later, they chuckled, a strange sort of chuckle that carried the humor of it all but kept it back at once, holding it at bay with a hesitance neither of them dared let go.

Silence fell. Yuugi shook his head.

"… this is really happening."

His other self blinked in a very matter-of-fact way.  
>"Yes, Aibou. Yes, it is."<p>

Yuugi laughed again, this time with less nervousness than before. He slipped the Puzzle back on the pillow, watching for just a moment as the gold gleamed in the moonlight, safe in its favorite spot. Yuugi settled himself on the floor, and he turned his eyes around his room before looking back to his other self.

He huffed a loud breath.

"I … I just don't believe it!" he almost spat, though it came out in the midst of a sigh and sounded gentle rather than sharp. He shook his head again and looked into the violet eyes across from him. "I mean, you were a spirit five minutes ago … right?"

"Right." The words held no hint of hesitance, despite their soft tone. Yuugi could not make himself keep his eyes from growing wide.

"And now … you've got a body. A real body."

His other self moved his head a little bit down. "I always had a body, Aibou."

"But … but a _new _one!" Yuugi sputtered. He threw his hands into the air. "It's not mine! I'm solid, and you're solid! At the same time!"

It took a moment for his other self to shake his head. "This is …"

He opened his mouth to finish, but instead, his mouth was forced open enough to close his eyes on reflex, a yawn pushing itself out as if to make fun of him all on its own. His lips closed, and he flinched as if he had been confronting with a dancing tomato. Yuugi stared.

And even he jumped when his laughter cut into the air.

"You just got your own body, and you're already tired!"

His other self just sat there, frozen, eyebrows going up and down.

"… so that's what that feels like," he muttered in what might have been contemplation and might have been horror. He blinked and looked down at his mouth like a criminal culprit. "Very … strange."

Yuugi chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it _is_ sort of weird, huh?"

His other self nodded, and his neutral lips turned into a smirk when Yuugi opened his mouth in a particularly loud yawn as well, catching himself so off guard he almost gave himself the hiccups. His other self suppressed a chuckle.

"I think we're both tired."

Yuugi forced another yawn back into his throat. "Well, it _is _just past midnight. And I think that adrenaline rush just wore off."

"Adrenaline rush?" His other self blinked. Yuugi nodded like a parent explaining to a confused child, and hoped his other self didn't notice that bit.

"Well, usually when something like this happens we're in danger. But … I don't see any danger."

He furrowed his brow, but let go of his confusion when another yawn forced its out way out.

His other self smiled, a smile Yuugi had seen so many times, and yet one that looked so incomprehensibly different now that he had a body with which to make it real. Caring. Like a loving parent or sibling or mentor or best friend smiling down on the one who is loved, a smile matched with violet eyes gentler than they had been in a long time. "Maybe you should go back to sleep, Aibou."

Yuugi hesitated, and glanced from side to side, before closing his eyes and shaking his head with a fervency enough to give himself a headache.

"No … no, this is _way _too important. We … kind of need to talk about this."

His other self smiled a smile Yuugi knew far too well not to label as amused.

"Alright, then." And without waiting for a question or confirmation or any sort of response at all, he grasped Yuugi under the arms, only just avoiding the ticklish spots that made Yuugi fall over in giggles. Yuugi flinched and gawked, his mouth hanging open like a surprised cartoon squirrel, and did not protest as his other self all but dragged him up onto the mattress and messed-up sheets of the bed, and pushed him down to lie on the folds of the comforter. He settled in next to him with that smile still there, the spikes of his hair bending against the side of his head to the force of lying on the mattress. That smile turned into the faintest hints of a smirk. "Talk."

Yuugi sputtered at first, and a few seconds later burst into laughter that might have woken Jii-chan down the hall if he hadn't thought to cut it off as quick as it had begun.

He turned his head to adjust his own position on the bed, as if he had been lying on it properly instead of diagonally, and backwards, the pillow on which the Puzzle resting past his toes and his neck making a cushion out of the folds of the sheets. He chuckled again, not bothering to repress it, and met the violet eyes of his other who lay not a third of a meter from his face.

"So, uh … comfy?"

A blink was his reply. A moment later, his other self lowered his brow just enough to show his thoughts and nestled himself further into the covers and the sheets and the mattress, and though he did not breathe one of those content sighs, his eyelids drooped and his lips turned into the faintest smile, and Yuugi wondered if anyone else in the world could remember what it felt like to lie on a bed for the first time.

His other self nodded. Yuugi sighed. He bit the inside of his lip and turned his eyes above.

"Okay … so … did anything weird happen today?"

His other self quirked his head, almost tired, weary, and yet somehow still dignified and regal. "Our friends came over."

Yuugi gave two curt nods.

"Okay, not too weird. Let me see …"

Seconds became minutes as theories were tossed back and forth, theories that often made no sense and with details Yuugi couldn't remember for his life. The minutes drawled on, bit by bit, filled with voices faded into quiet whispers that filled his ears like the chirping of crickets or the rustling of trees.

He did not register when his eyelids drooped and yawns came to overtake his talking. He was only just aware of the sleepy smile on his other self's face, lying close to him on the bed.

And he couldn't help but wonder what it was like to fall asleep for the very first time.

Sleep claimed him too before he could think to ask.

* * *

><p>It had been years since Yuugi had woken up to something quite this unusual.<p>

He still had vague memories of the days when he would go into Jii-chan's room after a nightmare, or when he was still young enough to get in bed with his mother. But that had been a long time ago. He was seventeen, and it had been such a long time since anyone else had slept near enough to him to wake him up.

And over the past year, he had woken up to all sorts of things. His alarm clock, or the sunlight on the weekends. Occasionally his other self had woken him with a question or concern. He had woken up to a duel, or back in his body after time away, or turbulence in a blimp, or to the roar of a plane he hadn't remembered boarding. He had woken up to a great many odd things.

But it had been an incomprehensibly long time since Yuugi had woken up to snoring.

For a moment, he didn't register the noise. He opened his eyes, and he stared at the ceiling, and he wondered if something was wrong with his ears. He was lying twisted on the bed, not even under the covers, and at first, he couldn't remember how he had gotten there.

Then it came back.

Everything of the night before. All the truth of it, the reality. Waking up to the thud, the sense of something wrong, the nightmare. The solid spirit sitting on the floor, talking to him with his own voice and his own body. Passing out not long after at all.

And now he was hearing snoring, coming from just beside his head.

He turned.

Of all the weird things Yuugi had ever _seen, _this took the cake, climbed up a skyscraper, and stuck its tongue out at the one the cake had been taken from. It was the sort of thing that normally would have made Yuugi sure that he was dreaming. But he wasn't dreaming. He knew that.

But even still, he thought it quite reasonable that it looked like a dream to see his other self, lying next to him on the bed, his mouth hanging open, snoring loud enough to rival a freight train.

It was what Professor Hopkins had once referred to as a "Kodak moment." His other self, the stoic, strong, almost regal spirit, one arm lying near his head and his legs sprawled out, one of them hanging off the edge of the bed. The black muscle shirt he had been wearing—Yuugi had never gotten around to wondering why it was that he had materialized in _those _clothes—had shifted out of place, so his other hand lay messily over his bare lower stomach. There was what looked to be a drop of drool on his chin, dribbling there like a baby after a nap.

And his _hair. _Spikes bent, little pieces of hair hanging about, his bangs scrunched around his face.

Yuugi didn't think he had ever had to work so hard not to crack up.

"Er … mou hitori no boku?"

He didn't particularly _want _to wake him up. He looked just too darn comfortable, and it was early on a Sunday. Yuugi honestly would have preferred to curl up and go back to sleep himself. But he knew he had to get up. There were, after all, plenty of things to deal with.

He shifted to his side to look his other self more squarely in the face. "Mou hitori no boku?"

His other self snored again, louder, more sudden, and the arm by his head twitched and bumped into Yuugi's head. His eyes didn't shift. His mouth still hung open. Yuugi sighed and moved away from the arm, though he couldn't help the smile that forced its way onto his lips, either out of amusement or wonder at seeing the ever-serious ancient spirit look so …

… _teenager._

Yuugi turned more on his side and almost settled back into the pillow, when he realized that he wasn't even sleeping _on _the pillow. The pillow was on the other side of the bed next to his feet. His other self had apparently taken to resting his feet on _top _of the pillow, which Yuugi would have found rude if it weren't for the fact that he doubted his other self knew any better at all.

That, and given that this physical form was brand new, he doubted his other self really had very dirty feet in the first place.

He blinked and shifted again. Yes, it was real. This was all real. It wasn't some elaborate dream or a hallucination caused by lack of sleep and a very disturbed mind. Sunlight streamed in through the skylight and the window near his desk, and his other self was still here. Solid, real.

Alive.

It made Yuugi's head spin just thinking about it. The spirit had always been just a spirit, and for such a long time had just been another _part _of him … and he was in his own body. He had a form of his own, even if that form was nearly identical to Yuugi's. The same pale skin, same spiky hair—with one or two of the bangs a bit more spiked up—and the same face that really couldn't have been very different but still looked somehow more mature.

And though his eyes were closed, those were _his _eyes. The eyes that held both wisdom and naïve curiosity. The eyes that had seen things most people could never imagine, and yet still found popcorn a new and amazing phenomenon. Eyes of someone young and old at the same time.

Eyes Yuugi saw, for the very first time, truly relaxed. Sleeping.

He wondered—and nodded as affirmation to himself—if this was the first time his other self had ever truly slept.

Again, he didn't really want to wake the older boy—he was pretty sure calling him "older" wasn't inaccurate, given that he was supposedly pushing three thousand, though referring to the confident, often terrifying essence of his other self as a "boy" just like any of his male classmates still sounded odd. He knew this was still a mystery to them. There were still so many things they had to do. But his other self was lying next to him right now, snoring, something Yuugi had never seen before and wondered if he would ever see again.

He hesitated, contemplating, before reaching out one hand and laying it on his other self's shoulder. He flinched and swallowed when his fingers met solid flesh. Real, living flesh that shifted as he breathed, blood flowing. heart beating. It was one thing to see and feel in the darkness of night, but in the plain light of day, it was undeniable.

This was the other self that had won dozens of duels, who spent far too much time thinking, the voice that spoke to him from within his treasured Egyptian artifact.

Yuugi flinched and glanced over his shoulder and down at his feet, only to sigh in far too obvious relief when the Millennium Puzzle still lay on his pillow, between his feet and his other self's, glinting the light of the sun. It was safe.

They still needed it. Even if the whole reason he had so fervently protected it was now snoring next to his head.

His fingers twitched on his other self's shoulder and rubbed the skin that lay exposed next to the tight black shirt he seemed to love. It was new skin, like a baby's, not rough or damaged, and yet somehow also not frail. He bit his lip and giggled at the idea that in some sense, he was touching his own shoulder, and just tried not to make his voice too loud.

But at last, his other self furrowed his brow and groaned, then shifted into Yuugi's hand. His snores halted, and Yuugi waited. One second. Two seconds.

His other self squeezed his eyes shut and blinked them open.

Yuugi grinned, not even bothering to take away his hand.

"Good morning, mou hitori no boku."

His other self quirked his head, a fairly difficult task, it seemed, while still lying flat on the bed. He moved his head just enough to look Yuugi in the eyes. His gaze felt softer than it had it a long time, and yet more surprised than Yuugi had ever imagined his other self could be.

"Good morning, Aibou."

There were faded dark circles under his eyes, and Yuugi got a sudden urge to reach out and poke them, just to see if they felt like the circles under his. But then he imagined the look on his other self's face if he were to suddenly reach over and poke him under the eye, and he pushed that thought back and tried not to laugh.

Yuugi blinked, and his other self blinked in turn, then pulled a hand from its stiff position at his side to rub his left eye and stared at his hand like the motion itself confused him. Yuugi let himself smile and roll further onto his side.

He hesitated, only a second, the hand that had been on his other self's shoulder lifting and hovering in the air, then brushed the tips of his fingers against the skin of his other self's cheek.

Violet eyes flicked to him, and the look in those eyes didn't look like Yuugi had imagined. The confusion was there, vague, a little senseless, but not like he had thought. He did not jerk away as Yuugi stroked the skin, pale peach tinted with pink, as soft as the skin of a newborn baby and yet not quite so delicate. His own hands suddenly seemed as rough as Jii-chan's by comparison. His other self watched him as he moved his hand, and the only movement he made was to settle further into the mattress and seemingly into the touch on his cheek. His eyelids drooped, and Yuugi wondered if he should have let him sleep a little longer.

Yuugi breathed and let his fingers slip so they only just touched the jawbone. He shook his head and sighed again.

"It really wasn't a dream."

His other self watched each of his expressions, never turning away, though Yuugi somehow knew that he still felt the fingers on his face, and every few seconds he shifted in half-conscious realization of the sensation of touch. He did not furrow his brow or sigh or even seem to think. He waited, then shook his head, a simple motion, as if prompted by a simple fact.

"No. No, it wasn't."

Yuugi's fingers fell from his other self's face. He let them rest on the sheets, and his other self watched his fingers go as if this was the biggest change of this morning yet, or even of the night before. He watched those fingers with blinking wonder, and he paused a long time before he looked at Yuugi again.

And when he did, Yuugi laughed, a quiet sort of half-laugh that wasn't really a laugh at all, and he shook his head again, more forceful, with a million questions he knew he could not answer. "This … this is so _weird _…"

The simple description seemed a million kilometers away and right on target at the same time. He leaned his head to look his other self full in the face, and his other self did the same to him. Gentle eyes. Eyes that understood but weren't sure what they were understanding. Simple eyes, both devoid of feeling and dripping with thousands of emotions even he could not comprehend or control.

"… I know."

His other self looked at him, his eyes contemplating every bit of his face, his expression, like he had never seen it before. The hand he had rubbed his eye with rested on his chest, and he raised it, letting it hover in the air in an uncertainty that could not be defined.

He forced a short, quiet breath, and reached that hand until the tips of his fingers rested on Yuugi's cheek as Yuugi's fingers had touched his own. Baby-soft fingertips without the callousness of use or the weariness that came with time. Everything new. He brushed his fingers along the rough parts of Yuugi's cheek, on the little bumps of adolescent imperfection, on the spots that had remained soft through all the years. He brushed his fingers back and forth, one by one, in gentle caresses, and his lips curled into a smile that matched the softened look in his eyes.

Yuugi turned his head just so as not to force away the hand. "Mou hitori no boku?"

His other self shook his head, back and forth, slow, but definite, even though he didn't seem to know what he was denying. He brushed his fingertips again on the skin like one might stroke the fur on the head of a kitten, and Yuugi could have sworn that smile grew.

"Nothing, Aibou."

He stayed like that for what felt like a long time. He rested his head on the sheets, perfectly still if it weren't for his arm and his fingers. They stroked the skin on Yuugi's forehead and cheeks, and touched the tip of his chin, before pulling back at last and resting the arm just next to Yuugi's head.

Yuugi breathed out hard.

"… I bet it's time to get up," he muttered, with the same reluctance in his voice as when he had to tell Jounouchi-kun that the buffet was closing and the waiters were about to kick them out. He pursed his lips and hesitated, meeting big violet eyes. "If you're still tired, though, you can sleep …"

His other self shook his head before he could finish. His smile faded now, and his eyes held a strange maturity that Yuugi almost found comforting. As if he was still looking at the same spirit and not a fellow living, breathing boy. His other self nodded again. "I … think we've got a fairly long day ahead of us."

Yuugi wanted to laugh, but decided against it.

His other self pushed himself to sit on the edge of the bed and hung his legs off the edge. He reached his arms up as far as they would go toward the ceiling, his back arched, his eyes closed as he groaned that same groan Yuugi gave when he woke up and stretched first thing each day.

Then his eyes snapped open and he stared at his lower arms like they had just decided to betray him.

Yuugi laughed almost as loudly as at the yawning incident the night before.

He thought of mentioning his other self's snoring as the former spirit stared at his hands, just to see how he would react, but he shook his head, if only to himself. There was probably a limit to how many shocks one person could take in less than a day.

He kicked his legs into the air and pushed himself off the bed and to his feet. He turned to find his other self quirking a brow.

"Come on." Yuugi's smile turned sheepish, and he rubbed his arm through his sleeve. "We should … go downstairs, probably."

His other self blinked up at him with the sort of expression Yuugi had never really imagined he could wear. Naïve confusion and wonder that made him look five years old instead of three thousand, or even seventeen—or however old he actually was. He blinked again, then nodded, as if deciding something of great importance.

Or dangerous.

Like a kid deciding to dive headfirst off the high dive the day after they learned how to swim.

It was a sight Yuugi wished he could have on video as his other self pushed down on the bed with his palms and pushed himself up to stand on both feet. And for a few moments, it seemed as if, however shakily, he was doing so successfully, his hair messy, his skin that early-morning clammy and his clothes wrinkled, but he stood.

Then he wobbled like his knees had given up, and leaned over to latch onto Yuugi's arm like a toddler to a parent.

Yuugi wasn't sure whether to laugh or pat his other self's head at the look of vague panic that surfaced on his face. He squeezed Yuugi's arm like a lifeline, not even seeming to realize the embarrassment he would normally show. Yuugi slipped his free arm around him, his fingers rubbing the bare skin of his other self's shoulder and feeling the strange warmth.

His other self glanced at him, only a glance, then pushed himself up again to balance on his own. His arms slipped away from Yuugi. He wobbled, once, twice, but held strong, and half a minute later he was standing as if he had been doing so most of his life.

If not for the way his bare feet twitched.

He looked at Yuugi, and Yuugi looked at him with a gentle smile. Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. Yuugi led the way and his other self followed him as they started in slow, baby steps out of the room and down the hall toward the stairs.

Yuugi didn't think as much about the odd situation of his other self's walking as much as he might have. But he did think about it. He wondered how it was that the spirit had not only borrowed his body, but maneuvered it through difficult situations better than Yuugi himself. He did handsprings and flips and ran faster than Yuugi could ever remember running in his life. And now this.

But this was a new body, he supposed. Like an infant trying to walk on its first day after being born. Every muscle, every bone, pulled from nothing. The soft skin of a baby.

A baby, in the form of a seventeen-year-old boy.

With the mind of a three-thousand-year-old king.

Getting down the stairs only posed one incident of his other self grasping at the wall for support, and otherwise the two of them made it down without trouble, and walked through hallway of the first floor of the house. His other self stared at everything as if seeing it for the first time, taking in it all with wide violet eyes.

And a moment later, sniffing the air. It was only then that Yuugi noticed the smell of eggs wafting through the house, and the sound of a pan sizzling just down the hall, mixed in with the sound of humming in a voice they both knew.

It was also only then that Yuugi first realized the difficult task that now looked him in the face.

He swallowed and started forward again.

His other self followed him, caring for almost nothing but staring at his new surroundings with wonder and awe. Yuugi stepped through the kitchen doorway to spot Jii-chan at the stove with a pan in his hand, lifting it away from the burner to set it aside. The smell of eggs was almost overpowering, as was the fading sound of sizzling butter, so Yuugi could only just hear his grandfather's humming permeating the air.

He wondered, one last time, if perhaps he could do this some other, easier way. But he could think of nothing, and if he had learned anything from past experience, the best way to do something difficult was just to step out and do it.

So Yuugi swallowed the lump in his throat, forced a smile onto his face and took one more step.

"Good morning, Jii-chan."

The old man perked his head and gripped a plate tight in both his hands as he turned with that big friendly smile to look his grandson in the face.

"Good morning, Yuugi! How are you do—"

Jii-chan jolted back, and the tinted glass plate shattering on the floor, scrambled eggs flying into the air, somehow matched the look in his eyes like he had just seen a mummy come to life.

* * *

><p>It was probably the first time Yuugi had genuinely worried that Jii-chan had had a heart attack.<p>

Of course, he suspected his other self had been even more worried than him, given how he had raced forward at the first sign of the old man panicking, and helped him down into a chair with the gentleness that might have been expected of Anzu, instead of the King of Games who laughed at adversity and enjoyed the rush most when the battle was at its peak.

The King of Games, the other self who would have killed to protect him, helping his grandfather into a chair at the kitchen table, an arm around his shoulders, and his free hand pulling back a seat for him to rest.

If it weren't for the panic racing through his system, Yuugi might have told him how kind he had become.

His other self watched over Jii-chan as he caught his breath and clutched his chest while Yuugi dug out a broom and dust pan from the cabinets and began to sweep the clinking glass from the floor. He flicked his eyes between the shattered plate and his grandfather and his other self at the table. Jii-chan finally calmed after a few minutes, the only remnant of his shock the hand he had yet to lower from his chest and the eyes that remained wide with shock.

And then the explanations began.

Yuugi wasn't sure whether it was because of his age or simply because of the things he knew but really shouldn't have known that Jii-chan took it better than he had expected. Honestly, Yuugi had just been hoping that his grandfather wouldn't call the police, saying that some guy who looked like his grandson had invaded their home, or maybe faint and have to be taken to the hospital again.

But a few minutes and about fifteen questions later, Jii-chan was back up on his feet and salvaging the last of the scrambled eggs onto plates for the three of them and pouring one glass of orange juice after another, smiling as he turned to look over his shoulder at Yuugi's new "twin."

It was the kind of breakfast Yuugi had wished for somewhere deep in the back of his mind. The kind of breakfast he had weird dreams about, where his other self really was part of the family and they lived together as siblings or cousins or good friends. In his dreams, though, his other self didn't stare at breakfast like an alien, and Jii-chan didn't nearly choke on his food when Yami spilled orange juice every time he took a sip.

But it was a good breakfast, even if his other self had been silent for much of it, sipping at the orange juice with increasing care, and Jii-chan offered to do all the dishes so Yuugi could take care of a bit of business he both anxiously anticipated and dreaded with deep-rooted fear.

He swallowed very hard and stared very hard at the blue phone on the wall of the shop. He listened to the clinking of dishes in the kitchen, and he heard the faint breathing of his other self standing behind him—and he paused just a second to appreciate the realness of that again.

Yuugi pursed his lips, pulled the phone off the wall, and dialed the number he had jotted down in the address book months before.

_Ring._

_ Ring ring._

_ Click._

He blinked and bit the inside of his lip when a woman's voice on the other end of the line started off in a language he could only guess was Arabic. She spoke fast and sharp, and if it weren't for the familiar intonations he never would have guessed that it was the same woman he knew. But he could tell it was her, and he could tell it was recorded.

The phone clicked again. Yuugi breathed.

"Um, hello, Ishizu-san, this is Mutou Yuugi. I'm calling with an … uh … a problem, sort of. It's a … little hard to explain, and I hope that you can call me back as soon as possible, in case you know anything. You see, last night, my other self … the 'nameless pharaoh,' he, uh … he just 'appeared.' I mean, I could always see him, but … he's … he has his own body. I know, it sounds … insane, but, he's standing right next to me now, and we're … not really sure what happened, and we were hoping you might be able to help. Anyway, uh, thank you very much."

He held the phone to his ear for another few seconds, listening to the echo of his own breath against the mouthpiece and to the silence on the other end of the line. His hand twitched, and he clicked the phone back into its dock on the wall.

Yuugi breathed a long, trembling sigh.

"She didn't answer?"

He turned to find his other self standing at the closest distance he could manage while still giving Yuugi some elbow room. Now he took another step forward, and Yuugi did not step back, so he could almost feel the warm, real breath gusting in his face, breath that matched the curious eyes that gleamed with feeling and the real face that quirked in more of a question than he was going to speak.

Yuugi twisted his lips into odd expressions neither smiles nor frowns, then shook his head. "No." He rubbed his arm and shrugged. "I guess she's busy."

There were a great many more things Yuugi wanted to say other than "I guess she's busy," but he didn't say them, because the anxiety he could just sense behind the eyes of the spirit-turned-teenager before him bothered him enough as it was, and he somehow couldn't stand the idea of making that anxiety worse by bringing up his own worries, especially when he didn't even know whether or not they were true.

He said nothing. Something on his other self's face furrowed in concentration, but he did not ask again.

Instead, he blinked. "What should we do now?"

Yuugi pursed his lips, eyes flicking up and down to the ceiling and the floor, then he looked back to his other self with uncertain eyes. He lowered his brow, and a moment later, he grinned.

"Well, it's Sunday. I don't have school. And … maybe we should make the most of this before Ishizu-san calls back."

His other self quirked his head. "Make the most of it?"

"Let's go somewhere!" Yuugi almost exclaimed, but caught himself before he was loud enough to alert Jii-chan in the other room. His eyes went wide and excited, but dimmed when he found his other self staring. He pressed his lips together. "I bet there are plenty of places Anzu never took you, right?"

A pause. His other self hesitated and blinked.

Yuugi shifted, on one foot, then to the other, and suddenly wished he could slap himself across the face. He swallowed again. "I mean, if you'd rather just stay here, we can …"

But his other self cut him off before he could finish. He smiled, one of his kind and soft smiles, and shook his head.

"I think going outside would be great." He leaned his head to the side. "Just … hanging out?"

Yuugi tried not to bite the inside of his lip and tried even harder to form his mouth into a grin. "Yeah. Hanging out."

The smile on his other self's face grew, always gentle, always that same smile of the caring protector that would not dare soften himself for anyone but him.

"I'd like to hang out with you very much, Aibou."

Yuugi beamed.


	3. Chapter 3

**_I'm back! _Told you guys I'd finish this story (man, two months... sorry for the long wait!). I've left far too many stories unfinished in the past to leave this one hanging, too, especially since you all have been so kind in your reviews (I'm absolutely flattered—15 favorites, _21 _alerts, and 14 reviews after just two chapters? Seriously, flattered!). Plus, after all the writing I had been doing throughout last year, I really just needed a break (I sincerely apologize for all the reviews and private messages I've taken so long to get back to and some that I have yet to reply—I will get to them soon, promise!). A warning: this story will still be slow in updates, as this has been a very hectic semester for me. But I _will _get it done. **

**Anyway! Back to business.**

**So, considering that my first two reviewers for the last chapter complimented me on virtually the exact same things (and assuming the two of them aren't conspiring to baffle me), and my fifth reviewer did the same, I now have a very good idea of what I should keep doing! Thanks! And, of course, great thanks for all the reviews.**

**And considering my next two reviewers both seemed quite eager to read the next chapter, I'm honestly wondering how all of you are going to handle the _real _cliffies I've got planned. In any case, I'm very glad you guys are enjoying it.**

**The last two chapters have been the "setting things up" chapters. Now, the major plot points haven't exactly hit yet … and, in fact, this story isn't so much a standard plot arc as it is a situation with many included problems, both immediate and universal as well as very personal to the two main people involved. But this chapter gets us started into the more serious portions. Plus it's kind of goofy. I like to call it "Curious Yami." … though, "Confused Yami" is probably a bit more accurate.**

**Culture note: Japanese baths are meant for soaking in hot water, _not _cleaning yourself. You wash thoroughly _before _entering the bath, as the water is always kept in the tub and rarely changed. You either wash on the floor (which may have a drain) or you can just take a shower, which is usually located in the same room as the bath. The toilet is _not _located in the same room as the bath.**

**Hope you all enjoy!**

3

Strange experiences had pretty much become the status quo in Yami's "life."

In fact, he had a nagging feeling that every time things started to quiet down in his "life," the world had a significantly higher likelihood of blowing up.

Simple trips to the museum usually involved running into other Millennium Items or having the god cards stolen and monsters appear all over the city. He couldn't go out for one day with Anzu without being challenged to a duel—not that he really minded that part. And no duel was normal, no duel was just a friendly match between friends. They all meant something. They were all one step closer to unlocking the mysteries that had surrounded his existence from the day Aibou had first woken him from the dark.

But still. This had to rank pretty high in his never-ending list of weird experiences.

Even higher than that "Step Johnny" guy.

But Yami had never been one to think that just because everything weird that could happen to him usually did, that didn't mean that everything that happened was bad.

Usually, it meant something. And this was no exception.

Probably.

Yami sighed and settled further into the soft blankets that covered Aibou's bed as he heard the sound of running, streaming water that had filled the room for the past ten minutes shut off across the hall. If nothing else, it was wonderful to be able to feel. He had felt before, of course. He had felt the wind in his face and the chilled air on his bare skin when he stood atop the blimp during Battle City. He had felt the smooth touch of the cards in his hands as he held them. He had felt the pain of shadow games, a pain real and yet not quite as real as it might have been.

But he had never felt the softness of Aibou's bed at home. He had never been able to sleep on that bed, and to sleep with the comfort of knowing that Aibou was sleeping right beside him.

He had slept before, yes. He had been knocked unconscious, , and he had woken up in that tent where Ironheart and Chris had rescued them. But that had not been sleeping. Every time he woke with achy limbs and a vague headache.

And when he had woken that time after the train had derailed, he woke with nightmares.

He woke alone.

The door creaked open, and Yami almost leapt to his feet.

"Mou hitori no boku?"

Aibou stepped inside, his new clothes for the day—a pale green shirt and jeans, which Yami didn't like but still seemed to fit him—clinging to wet skin, his hands maneuvering a thick white towel through his soaked hair. It still managed to stand on end, as it always did, and Yami was determined to use at least part of this opportunity of having his own physical form to figure out how.

He smiled as the boy made his way closer, and Aibou smiled back.

"You want to take a shower before we go?"

Yami's smile fell.

"Hm?"

Aibou blinked, tilted his head, then giggled. He swung the thick, damp towel over his shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh … right … you've never been in a shower before, have you?"

Yami stared. He shook his head, furrowing his brow. "The thing that … it spews water?" he suggested with a glance at the spiked hair dripping onto the carpet. Aibou's head cocked the other way. Yami's eyebrows went up. "Is that where you always went when you said you were 'taking a shower'?"

He had very little but the plainest memories of it at this point, but he _did _remember all those times Aibou had left the Puzzle on the bed to slip into the bathroom—it was called a bathroom, he knew that much—across the hall, only to come back ten to twenty minutes later with dripping hair and new clothes. Personally, Yami had always thought there was a pool in the bathroom. Pools he knew. Though he had never been able to figure out why Aibou was so keen on going swimming every day.

Aibou grinned.

"You'll love it, then! Here."

He opened his closet door, towel still slung over his shoulder, dug around with one hand, then pulled out a pair of dark blue school pants, boxers, a red T-shirt, and socks. He tucked those under his arm, dropping the towel on the floor—his mother hated when he did that—and turned to Yami again.

He smiled still and motioned toward the door. "Come on, I'll show you."

Yami scurried after Aibou as he slipped again past the door and toward the little room on the other side of the hall. Yami paused in the hallway when Aibou stepped in. He leaned ahead as if to check to make sure some evil water monster wasn't going to jump out and eat him, then followed Aibou into the room.

As he stared, he wondered more and more how he had managed to go all this time in Aibou's house without ever seeing the bathroom.

He recognized, at the very least, the bathtub to the right. There was water inside, filled to the top, and it crossed Yami's mind that perhaps Aibou meant for him to take a bath. But Aibou nodded to the left, past the sink and near the back, where, at least in Yami's mind, there appeared to be a small white room.

A small white room, perhaps a meter taller than Aibou, with a white curtain hanging as a fourth wall.

Aibou swished it back. Yami jumped, then blushed and thanked the gods—or all the gods he could remember—that Aibou was looking the other way. Aibou flicked his hand toward him, and Yami leaned in as Aibou bent to point to what looked like two silver contraptions just inside the room on the wall.

"Okay, you just turn these two knobs."

Yami looked at Aibou and blinked. "At the same time?"

"Sort of," Aibou answered with a shrug, and Yami thought, though he could not be sure, that his voice held the first remnants of a chuckle. Aibou pointed to the knob further toward the wall, then the other. "This one's hot, this one's cold."

"The knobs have a temperature?"

This time Aibou chuckled. And Yami couldn't quite bring himself to feel frustrated at the boy for laughing at his bafflement of modern technology. It was difficult to stay angry at Aibou. Almost as difficult as getting angry at him in the first place. Aibou shook his head.

"No, this one turns on the hot water, and this one turns on cold." Aibou tapped the "cold" knob and withdrew his hands entirely. He stood up straight, then looked at Yami with a grin. "You adjust them until the water's warm. Then you get in."

Yami blinked again and flicked his eyes to the knobs and the rest of the shower as well. "… right."

"Usually you just take a shower before a bath at night, but I don't take baths much lately, so I just shower in the morning."

Yami nodded, eyes big, hardly even blinking now as he listened to Aibou explain as if there wasn't a problem in the world.

Aibou grinned to his ears, and it took all Yami had not to speak as he clasped his hands in front.

"Okay! There's a towel to dry off on the rack, I'll be in my room. Have fun!"

Then Aibou turned, raising a hand to match his smile, his socked feet shuffling across the tile, and Yami just stood there waving long after Aibou had closed the bathroom door, like one who had just been left alone in the cavern of a bear.

He swallowed particularly hard and turned to face the bear.

It was just a small, white room with the white curtain Aibou had pulled back, with silver knobs like the sink downstairs. Yami hardly ever used the sink, except when he happened to be the one in the body when they got home and Aibou insisted he wash his sweat-soaked hands. But he knew the knobs. These were like those knobs. Only with a strange spout high up on the wall instead of a faucet, and the sink was big enough to fit several people instead of the dishes and his hands.

Yami breathed in and breathed out, then pushed back one last thought of calling Aibou into the room so he wouldn't have to face this on his own.

He straightened himself as tall as he could be and as proud as logic would allow. He had faced shadow games and life-threatening enemies. He had faced bullying and fire and magical artifacts and people who wanted to take over the world.

He would face this shower, and he would conquer it just the same.

Yami stepped forward and leaned close to the knobs, one hand leaning on the edge of the door to keep him from falling in. He looked at the knob furthest from him, then closest, the metal shining like it was smirking, snickering, and he scowled in a rather vain attempt to intimidate it into respect.

He pursed his lips, gripped both knobs at once, and turned them with a vengeance.

Then jerked back when water shot down from the spout on the wall, spraying onto his hair and face and nearly sending him stumbling into the door.

Yami sucked in a breath and huffed it out, and the water streamed down from the spout, ignoring him. He steadied his feet, feeling his socks slipping on the tile floor, and gripped the sink for balance. He glanced at the bathtub to the side and wondered why Aibou hadn't just had him take one of those instead.

He squeezed his hands into fists and glared at the stream of water from afar. He stepped toward it. It did nothing. One more step. Still no reaction, not even a flinch. Two steps this time, and still the stream of water did not change.

He decided, somewhat to his embarrassment, that the water probably didn't even have a consciousness to see him with. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing off the walls, and walked with as much dignity as he could reclaim at this point to the shower again.

Adjusting the knobs was somehow easier than just turning them on. It took him nearly a minute to reach out and let the water brush his fingertips, only to feel how freezing it was. He glanced at the knobs Aibou had pointed out as hot and cold. He glanced at the water, then back at the knobs, and leaned in with the utmost care not to brush the water stream, one hand on each knob.

He turned the left and held out a hand. Less cold, but still chilly. He turned the right knob back, and the left knob further on. Lukewarm. He flicked his eyes to the spout near the wall and twisted the left knob almost as far as it would go.

Yami reached out his hand and felt the stream on his fingertips.

Hot.

He smirked to himself and resisted the very strong urge to mock the shower until it cowered at his feet.

He held himself taller now, prouder, and looked at the shower again. Oh, yes, this could be conquered, just like everything else. He lifted one leg into the air and moved to step into the shower in full.

"Mou hitori no boku!"

Yami paused with one foot near the water. He could almost feel the spray of the hot steam on the tips of his toes, but he stayed perfectly still, not even bothering to be amazed by his own balance.

He turned his head toward the door. "Yes, Aibou?"

"You know you have to take off your clothes before you get in, right?"

Yami turned back, glanced down at his black sleeveless shirt and dark blue pants, the socks on his feet, blinked a blink so slow and definite he could have sketched it in the time it took him to do, and lowered his foot to the ground. He tried as hard as he possibly could not to let the heat rise to his cheeks.

Right.

A minute later he stood in front of the shower again. He had decided not to shut off the water, as if it took him this long to get the heat adjusted the first time, he wasn't particularly willing to figure it all out again. The mirror and air had filled with fog, and little droplets of water had splashed on the while tiles of the bathroom floor, and he couldn't help but form a rather unpleasant mental image of himself slipping backward and slamming onto his back.

He closed his eyes, shook his head, and in one last moment of decision, he stepped forward, through the curtain, and under the steady stream of water.

Yami jolted.

Over the past twelve hours—or less than twelve hours, he hadn't found a clock when Aibou had taken him downstairs—he had been surprised by almost every sensation, but most of them he had already felt in Aibou's body. Walking, climbing stairs, sitting and standing up. They were all different with the muscles in this new body that had never been used, but they were familiar. They were something he could attach to a memory.

But as the stream of water splashed him in the face, and the shoulders, and the neck, and continued to spray down upon him when he turned around so the water could wet his hair, Yami could think of no way to compare it to anything he had felt before in his brief time in a physical form.

He breathed, and each breath sucked in more of the warm steam surrounding his face. Some of it clung on his throat, some clung to his cheeks and forehead and lips. He looked from side to side at the glistening water dripping down from the drooped spikes of his hair. He blinked when some of them dripped from his bangs and over his eyes. He watched the water fall from his shoulders and splash on the white floor of the shower. He closed his eyes and leaned just back toward the stream.

He felt the water that sprayed onto his back and shoulders and hair, as he stepped back and forth, back and forth, adjusting where the stream of water hit him as he adjusted to each new sensation. Warm, hot, but not quite uncomfortable. Warm, wet, and almost soothing, though he wasn't quite sure how that was supposed to feel.

Comfortable.

Yes. That was about as he was going to get.

He didn't notice the voice at first. It was vague, somewhere in the back of his mind, calling him, through the pleasant darkness his eyelids provided. He dismissed it as some mental quirk for a moment, before it repeated itself, and he opened his eyes and turned his head.

Two knocks. A voice muffled by the wood.

"Mou hitori no boku! Are you okay in there?"

Yami jumped, nearly falling past the curtain and slamming into the tile of the bathroom floor.

He gripped the shower doorway, sucking in air, and peered past the white curtain to the door, where he was now sure Aibou was standing on the other side. He blinked and rubbed water out of his eye.

"I-I'm fine, Aibou!" he called back, surprised at the echo of his own voice. "I'll be out soon!"

There was no answer, but there were no more knocks, and Yami could pick up the faint sound of footsteps on the carpet as he leaned back into the shower and back under the stream.

Yami sighed, tilting his head, letting his lips twitch into a grin as the water played again on his shoulders and back. He reminded himself to ask Aibou when this was all done why it was that in all his time of sharing his body, Aibou had never decided to let him try out this particular wonder of the modern world.

But for now, he just sighed, and felt the heat and the wetness drip down his skin, eyes closed and mind unaware of anything but the water stream.

Perhaps this "getting his own body" deal had a few more perks after all.

* * *

><p>Apparently Aibou had been busy while Yami was in the shower.<p>

Which he silently admitted he was grateful for, especially once he noticed that he had apparently been standing around enjoying the hot water for a full thirty minutes.

He was also fairly grateful that if Aibou had noticed, he didn't see fit to mention it.

Aibou had called Jounouchi-kun and the rest of their friends to meet them at the arcade. He apparently hadn't told them why, and Yami wasn't sure if it was because he didn't think they would believe him over the phone or simply because he wanted to see the looks on their faces when they first saw the two of them walking side by side.

Admittedly, Yami was fairly curious about that as well, even if he knew that wasn't a priority at this point in time.

But he decided priorities were worth very little, and he was going to enjoy this for as long as he could before it simply turned into another serious affair to be dealt with and fixed.

Jii-chan waved through the glass entrance of the shop as Yami and Aibou left fifteen minutes after Yami came downstairs, walking out into the city in the bright morning sky.

It was hot.

Yami had known it would be, but feeling it for himself was another matter entirely.

Not to mention that he wasn't entirely sure this body had gotten itself used to the heat as Aibou's had, and after thirty minutes in a hot shower, his body temperature was already higher than it probably should have been.

He huffed, sending silent thanks when a gentle breeze brushed across his face.

They walked into town, along a sidewalk Yami recognized, with people bustling by on either side. Aibou maneuvered them with ease, and though Yami had already mastered this art when he was in Aibou's body, now it seemed he had to learn it all over again. He muttered quiet apologies when he bumped into people's shoulders and sides, scurrying as close behind Aibou as he could until the crowds themselves seemed to give them room, and Yami walked at Aibou's side again.

His eyes narrowed, and he flicked his gaze back and forth with lips pressed together more every second with the people that passed them by.

"They're looking at us, Aibou."

Aibou glanced up, turning his head each way. His cheeks turned vaguely pink, and Yami resisted the urge to smile at the soft blush. Aibou shifted as he walked, holding his head a little lower at the stares that passed over their faces as they walked straight through the crowds.

He shrugged.

"I guess we must look like twins," he suggested, his voice quiet and unsure.

Yami blinked and turned another examining gaze over the strangers passing by. "Maybe they're fans."

Aibou flinched.

Yami gave a half smile, his eyes following the strangers with scrutiny, but less suspicion than before. They glanced away when he met their eyes, scurrying faster as if they had been caught looking a little too long at something in a shop they did not have the money to buy. Yami shrugged.

"Though I suppose we _do _look rather alike."

Aibou blinked. He looked Yami up and down, then furrowed his brow and turned that same up-and-down motion on himself. He looked at Yami again, then himself, his eyes wide and staring. Then he chuckled, more of a snicker pressing at the inside of his lips, and shook his head.

Yami leaned back and poked out his bottom lip. "What?"

Aibou shook his head again, his laughter threatening to break out of his cheeks.

"I just realized … you're almost my height!" he answered so loudly the strangers stared before scurrying away again. Aibou ignored them and laughed, looking at Yami like a marvel of nature with a smile stretched across his face. "I didn't know you were that short!"

Yami pursed his lips. He looked at Aibou, their eyes just about at the same level. He lifted himself up straighter than before, but it hardly changed. Then he peered at the top of Aibou's head. He smirked.

"I'm _still _taller than you, Aibou."

"Only by a little!" Aibou shot back in a whining tone Yami had already come to associate with seven-year-olds. Aibou stood as tall as his stature would allow and held his head high. He grinned. "Hey, I'm a lot closer now!"

Aibou's smile grew, and he held himself proud and tall. Yami rolled his eyes, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't keep a smile from quirking onto his face.

Then Aibou stopped, and Yami jolted to stand next to him, his smile snapping away. Aibou's face lit up, and he raised his hand to wave. Yami turned his head.

"Jounouchi-kun!" Aibou shouted toward front of the arcade just a building away

The taller boy with the mess of blonde hair, standing next to the entrance, jerked his head back and grinned.

"Yuugi!" he called back and started toward them as Yami blinked. "Hey, I was just—"

Then he stopped, and the grin that had stretched across his face was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He blinked, once, twice, and just stared at the two of them standing right in front of him, the strangers around town still avoiding them as if they had decided they had some strange disease.

Jounouchi-kun contorted his face, and Yami pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh. Still, Jounouchi-kun rubbed his eyes with both hands, looked once more, and rubbed his eyes again.

Yami stuffed his hands in his pockets like he hadn't done in a long time. He smirked, and now couldn't quite keep back a chuckle that surfaced from the base of his throat. "Hello, Jounouchi-kun."

Jounouchi-kun stared. His eyes widened, then went back to normal, then widened again, his eyebrows raising so slow Yami could hardly see they were moving. He lifted his arm and pointed at Yami, his finger aimed right at the tip of Yami's nose.

"Yuugi, who's that?"

He didn't look at Aibou when he said it, just kept staring into Yami's eyes so hard Yami wasn't sure whether to laugh or back away. Aibou chuckled, almost, but not quite, nervous.

"Jounouchi-kun … isn't it obvious?" he asked, reaching to rub the back of his head.

Jounouchi-kun flicked his eyes to Aibou, then back at Yami, and blinked hard.

"Looks like someone cloned you."

Aibou laughed, no nervousness in his voice now, and Yami might have smiled if he hadn't been too focused on Jounouchi-kun's unchanging face, the blonde-haired boy's eyes moving from Aibou to Yami and back again. Aibou threw his arms out to his sides in mock exasperation and laughed one more time.

"Jounouchi-kun, this is the other me!"

Jounouchi-kun turned his gaze to Yami and stuck there, not even blinking, eyebrows still raised and eyes still wide, confusion working its way onto his face.

"… huh?"

Yami smirked to his ears, and lifted a hand near his face at Jounouchi-kun's baffled eyes.

"Yo."

He waved the hand back and forth when Jounouchi-kun just stared, and luckily, Jounouchi-kun's eyes didn't follow his wagging fingers. He didn't quite think he would have been able to keep a straight face.

Jounouchi-kun swallowed so loud Yami could hear it. His eyes flicked to Aibou.

"… this isn't … the 'something weird' you mentioned on the phone, is it?"

Aibou nodded and smiled again. He pointed to Yami as Jounouchi-kun's own finger fell.

"He's it."

Jounouchi-kun peered closer, and even though his face was still far away Yami almost leaned back. He stared with eyes that didn't quite believe the words he was hearing or what they implied. He leaned his head to one side, then the other, then shook it back and forth.

"… okay, this is one hell of a dream …"

Aibou huffed.

"Jounouchi-kun, he's real!" he burst, and Yami could hear vague annoyance in his tone, though it was far outweighed by understanding and even more by amusement. "Poke him or something, he's there!"

Yami jerked his head, arms coming near his torso, blinking wildly. He not-quite-feigned offense.

"Poke me?"

But if Jounouchi-kun had even noticed his outburst, he ignored it and took a few hasty, eager steps forward to stop so close Yami could almost feel him breathe. He paused, his arm hovering in the air, and poked Yami right in the center of the forehead.

Yami might have spoken, but he was just a little too stunned.

Jounouchi-kun's eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up so high they almost seemed to vanish into his hair. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, stared, then rubbed his eyes again. His lips parted in a gawk, finger still pointed at Yami's head.

"The … oh, geez, you … y-you're really real!"

"He's really _really _real," Aibou added, and if he hadn't been otherwise distracted Yami might have offered him a half-hearted glare for the snickers that escaped his lips.

Jounouchi-kun jabbed his finger once more in the center of Yami's forehead, almost enough to push him back. Yami breathed out long and slow, and Jounouchi-kun didn't even blink.

"Jounouchi-kun?"

Another poke. Harder this time. Not even a glance. "Yeah?"

Yami tried so very hard not to let the frustration get to him, and to practice the technique Aibou had once taught him for duels of breathing in very deep and letting it out as slow as he could. It only served in reminding him of the vacant expression on the face of the boy with his finger on his forehead.

"Could you please stop poking me?"

Jounouchi-kun jerked back.

"Oh! Right, uh … geez, this is one hell of a surprise, Yuugi! Or, uh, first Yuugi, and you're second Yuugi, or …"

Aibou chuckled as Yami rubbed his forehead to get rid of the lingering feeling of a finger pressing into it. "You can just call us both Yuugi for now," Aibou suggested, smile clear on his face. He shrugged. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."

Jounouchi-kun nodded, though he didn't seem to be listening. He crossed his arms and raised both his eyebrows again before lowering one in a quirk.

"… and … _how _did this happen?" he asked. He pointed toward Yami, and Yami only just kept himself from smacking a hand on his forehead in defense. "Isn't he supposed to be a spirit or something?"

Yami's brow lowered the slightest bit.

"You poked me three times, Jounouchi-kun."

Jounouchi-kun ignored him, and Yami supposed that was one thing he would have to get used to until their friends could start to view them as two separate people. Aibou sighed, smile gone.

"We don't know," he murmured. He rubbed his arm and averted his eyes before looking to Yami. He shrugged again. "He just … sort of … appeared. Last night."

Jounouchi tilted his head. He looked at Aibou, then at Yami, still more stunned that Yami would have preferred, but starting to appear just a little more accepting of the whole mess.

He pressed his lips together. "Does everyone else know yet?"

Aibou looked up.

"You feel like explaining it to them?"

Jounouchi-kun rubbed the back of his head.

"I kinda don't think you're done explaining it to _me._"

Aibou opened his mouth, but then Jounouchi-kun sighed. He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, both hands gripping it and thumbs tapping around the keypad in familiar motions. He didn't glance up.

"But I also kinda think this is one thing Honda and Anzu really shouldn't miss."

Yami looked at Aibou, and Aibou looked at Yami.

And despite the lack of mind link, Yami didn't think it was terribly farfetched to believe they were thinking the exact same thing as Jounouchi-kun brought his phone to his ear and they waited for the new insanity about to come.

* * *

><p>It was hardly any easier to break the news to Honda-kun.<p>

He had shown up about fifteen minutes later, panting, scrambling so much when he arrived that at first he looked at all three of them standing there and didn't even flinch. He greeted them one, by one, Jounouchi-kun, "Yuugi," and "Yuugi." It had taken him all the half-minute he needed to breathe properly again before his head shot up and he jolted back and forth in stares while Jounouchi-kun tried his very best to explain things without sounding completely insane.

Anzu had nearly fainted.

The conversation—when there was any—was mixed and uncertain save for a few random stares and comments as Jounouchi-kun, who had finally calmed down in his own respect, led them along sidewalks and across streets until they reached one of the few places around Domino City Yami found truly familiar: the front doors and bulky sign of Burger World. Yami didn't see fit to ask Aibou if he had planned for them to go out to eat, and just followed everyone else's guide finding a place to sit.

It had almost seemed on the walk to the restaurant as if a bubble had formed around each of them. Honda-kun in a silent bubble except for mutters toward Jounouchi-kun, Jounouchi-kun in his bubble of muffled pride of being the first to know, Anzu in a bubble that was very difficult to read as the only information she gave out consisted of the bulging eyes she couldn't seem to keep back, and the bubble Yami suspected he and Aibou still shared. Each of those bubbles kept quiet. Kept them from daring to break out in the curiosity that boiled more every instant. The only thing that kept them back from flinging themselves forward in disbelief of all that had changed in what was perhaps half a day since they had seen him last.

The instant they took their seats, their bubbles burst.

"You didn't do some weird magic or anything?"

"It's a _real _body? Just out of nowhere?"

"Are you sure we're not all trapped in a virtual world again and this is all a dream?"

"How does a brand new body just appear from nothing?"

"Do you still have to carry around the Millennium Puzzle?"

"Wait, so you guys really are the same height?"

Yami breathed the breath he had unintentionally held, sounding more like a frustrated sigh than he had meant. He smiled, ever so slightly, as if to make up for it.

"I think you all just repeated every question Aibou and I have had since last night. We—"

Then, mouth still open, his head snapped up in full as the last question sunk into his head. He lowered his eyebrows at Honda-kun, but Honda-kun was far too distracted staring to notice.

Aibou burst out laughing, and instead of glaring at him, too, Yami just rolled his eyes and rested his cheek in his palm. Aibou clung to the edge of the table to keep from falling onto Yami's shoulder.

"See, mou hitori no boku, I _told _you!"

Yami poked out his bottom lip and pushed his cheek further into his palm, fingernails digging into the skin under his eye. Then his eyes fell upon the Puzzle glimmering in the sunlight from the window. He wondered how he had managed to forget that such a deadweight was still around his neck.

Then he wondered when he had had the chance to come to think of it as a deadweight when he had only just been without it for the first time that very morning.

He huffed and shook his head, laying his arms one over the other and leaning into the table as Aibou's laughter died down.

"We've both been away from it without any trouble so far," he began—deciding to answer Anzu's more sensible question first—in the expository tone that usually made everyone else turn serious. "We're just—

"—carrying it around for safe keeping—"

"—since people are always trying to steal it—"

"—and that's the _last _thing we need right now," Aibou finished, chuckling in an odd, ironic sort of way as Yami nodded at his side.

Anzu, Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun stared, mouths hanging open, even Anzu's dignity lost for the sake of shock.

Honda-kun leaned into the table with wide eyes, and he lifted a finger to point first at Aibou, then at Yami, then at Aibou a second time.

"Do that again."

Yami and Aibou looked at one another. Blinked. Back to the group. "What?" they asked, their voices matching so closely it was hard to tell them apart.

Jounouchi-kun dropped his shoulders and shook his head, his breath coming out in something like a sigh and his lips quirking into a grin.

"Identical twins, anybody?"

Honda-kun nodded, and Yami and Aibou were just left looking at them and each other in bafflement. Yami almost opened his mouth to ask, but decided it probably wasn't worth anymore confusion than he already had.

Anzu shook her head and rested her chin on the back of her wrist as she set her elbow in front of her on the table. She sighed. "You both … I mean, I _knew, _but I never really … both of you," she murmured, half to them and half to herself. She shook her head again. "Right here. Two Yuugis. Wow."

She chuckled, or something like a chuckle, and Aibou let himself relax and smile back even though she didn't look at him. Honda-kun put his forehead to his palm, looking at them, then away, then back to them again.

"But, seriously … when did this even _happen_?" he nearly gasped, throwing his arms out to his sides so Anzu and Jounouchi-kun had to duck to avoid being smacked._ "_We saw you last night, and there _definitely _weren't two Yuugis then!"

Jounouchi-kun shrugged. "Well, technically, there _were, _we just couldn't _see _one of them."

Honda-kun blinked and looked at him in mock surprise.

"Wow, that actually sounded kinda smart." He grinned. "Good job, Jounouchi."

Jounouchi-kun scowled and held up a fist, but put it down as the nervous young man who had taken their orders nearly ten minutes before scurried to the table with an oversized tray in his hands.

They all turned and watched as the waiter slid filled glasses and plates of food to each occupant of the table, Yami wondering how he remembered who had ordered what. _Yami _didn't even remember what he had ordered, given that the menu had been nothing but gibberish and Aibou had ended up ordering for him while Anzu and Honda-kun tried their best to make sense of the "two Yuugis" sitting in front of them.

But Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun—and to some extent, even Anzu and Aibou—forgot about everything else as the waiter walked away, leaving what looked to be five orders of slices of meat in between two buns covered in some kind of transparent seed, some with green leaves inside—lettuce, yes, that was lettuce—and some with what he recognized as the vegetable that made Jii-chan cry when he cut it up and Aibou couldn't stand.

Hamburgers. Yes. Even if Yami had never eaten one himself, it was almost impossible not to recognize how they looked.

And smelled.

Jounouchi-kun's and Honda-kun's eyes lit up, drool practically dripping from their mouths, picked up their sandwiches and clamped their jaws around them.

But as Jounouchi-kun ripped off a bite of the meat and bread and vegetables and ate it so messily that Yami wondered if he should hold up a napkin just to protect himself from flying food, Honda-kun stopped with his teeth still around the bun, then pulled his head back, looking at the five sandwiches and little baskets of what looked like rectangular fried potatoes.

He blinked.

"Wait a sec, who's buying?"

Anzu put up a hand and waved it once, and Yami could just pick out the smirk forming on her lips. She crossed her arms.

"I know the frycook from when I worked here," she explained. "I told him we were bringing a friend here who's never had a hamburger before—well, it's _true_—so he set us up with a full meal, on the house."

Jounouchi-kun, having just taken another bite of his hamburger that almost seemed too large to fit into his mouth in the first place, raised his arms high in the air, and bowed as low as he could to her without bumping into her shoulder.

"Hail to Anzu."

Anzu jabbed an elbow into his side, and Jounouchi-kun nearly hacked up his last bite.

Honda-kun pursed his lips to keep back a snicker as Jounouchi-kun tried hard to breathe through the hamburger still in his mouth. "Actually, I think he meant that one," he noted with a hint of mischief in his tone. Before Anzu even had the chance to meet his eyes and quirk a brow, he laughed out loud and reached for his own burger with glee.

Aibou grinned, nodding with the same good manners Yami was still trying to learn.

"Thanks, Anzu!"

Anzu smiled, and Aibou bit off the first bit of his hamburger, chewing eagerly and swallowing before taking another bite, and another, and another after that.

All the while, Yami stared down at the hamburger in front of him on a white plate, next to a small basket of what he now remembered were called "fries." He poked the bun, then yanked his hand back, his eyes still wide and his face contorting in thought.

"Mou hitori no boku?"

Yami looked up, blinking. He hesitated as Aibou tilted his head, burger still in his hands but his biting and chewing stopped. Then Yami swallowed and pointed with an uncertain finger toward the familiar but strange thing on his plate. He raised an eyebrow.

"… should I … eat this?" he asked and he motioned again.

Aibou paused, then smiled. "It's food. Your lunch. Aren't you hungry?"

Yami looked at Aibou, then at the hamburger, before one of his hands subconsciously rested against his middle.

"The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach?"

Aibou nodded, and Yami couldn't tell if he was amused or concerned. Yami rubbed the skin just under his ribs.

"Then yes."

"Well, eat up, then!" Aibou insisted. He waved toward the hamburger and grinned from ear to ear when Yami stared. "It's good! Even better than Jii-chan's bacon and eggs! Didn't you like that?"

Yami swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth, only giving himself a moment to wonder why it was there. He blinked again.

"I never ate it, Aibou."

Aibou's eyes grew.

"_What?_" he nearly gasped, looking at Yami like he had just told him his skin was indigo instead of peach."You didn't eat breakfast?

Yami shrugged and tilted his head to the side.

"I didn't think eating was … the first thing I should focus on," he suggested, which sounded like a good reason in his mind, though from the look on Aibou's face, he guessed that it wasn't as good as he had thought.

The discomfort in his stomach seemed to take Aibou's side of things.

"Mou hitori no boku!" Aibou almost yelled, and Yami noticed the waiter that now stood a few tables away glanced up and quirked an eyebrow. Aibou huffed. "You've got a body now, you have to eat!"

Jounouchi-kun nodded so fast the sides of his head nearly whacked Anzu on the cheek.

"Yeah! Eating is, like, half the meaning of life!"

Honda-kun snorted and smirked. "What's the other half, Duel Monsters?"

Jounouchi-kun nodded very slowly, his eyes wide and his face as serious as it had been in a long time.

Yami just blinked one more time, glanced down at the hamburger, then back up to Jounouchi-kun staring at Honda-kun as Honda-kun tried not to crack up in his face.

But Aibou smiled like before, without the amusement and just with that reassuring face Yami had come to trust in all the time he had spent here. Aibou lifted a hand and brushed it against his shoulder, and somehow, Yami found that more comforting in a strange new world than anything he could have said.

"It's good. I promise." Aibou's smile grew, and he patted the shoulder again before drawing back his hand. "Just try it."

Yami looked down at the hamburger. He glanced to Aibou, and Aibou still smiled. Yami took a deep breath and stared the mess in front of him straight in the face.

He had survived the shower this morning, even if he had almost gotten in with all his clothes. And there was no running out now. Everyone was here. Everyone was watching. And whether or not he was alone and no matter what enemy he was facing, Yami never lost.

He picked up the hamburger with both hands, feeling the soft, cushiony texture of the bun under his fingers and letting the odd scent fill his nose.

Then he brought it to his mouth and took one tiny bite right off the edge.

His eyes went wide.

Flavor. Delicious, wonderful flavor. He would have compared it to something, but nothing in his mind could match. Just taste. Taste like nothing he had ever known before, and this new mouth that had never tasted anything but the orange juice at breakfast soaked in that taste like a starved animal in the wild.

Yami stuffed the burger into his mouth and bit off another chunk as big as his mouth could hold, chewing furiously and savoring the taste as much as he could before he forced himself to swallow and bite again, faster than even Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun had shown in their record times.

Honda-kun laughed out loud and clapped his hands.

"We have a winner!"

Anzu sighed long and hard in relief. "Oh, good, I was afraid he wouldn't like hamburgers."

"How could he not, Anzu?" Jounouchi-kun asked, incredulous, and Yami could only imagine that his face looked the same as he kept his attention on the delicious wonder in his hands. "Hamburgers are awesome! Besides, shouldn't he have the same taste buds as Yuugi? Yuugi _loves _hamburgers!"

Yami glanced to his side, and found Aibou grinning as he ate his own hamburger much slower. It crossed Yami's mind that he should be more polite about gorging himself, but that thought was gone as quickly as it had come in favor of the marvelous taste of the food.

He sipped at the drink in front of him through the straw, not caring what it was other than that it tasted amazing, not even caring when it made the inside of his nose sting like bubbles had been thrust inside it. He just sipped, then took another bite, and sipped again before he even swallowed so the flavors of the hamburger and the drink mixed.

From beside him, Yami could just make out Aibou chuckling between his own bites.

"One of the benefits of having your own body," Aibou pointed out, and Yami could hear the smile and the laughter in his voice. "Eat as much as you want!"

And never had Yami been so happy to comply.

Yami reminded himself, some ten minutes later, to thank Anzu for getting them the free meal, including a dessert of what was apparently called "chocolate cake" that Aibou had recommended and Yami had dug into almost as soon as the waiter set it in front of him. Sweet, smooth texture. Soft, with little air pockets, giving in every time he chewed and sliding down his throat like liquid. He ate the whole piece before Jounouchi-kun or Honda-kun even got the chance to ask if they could try a bite, and when they got their own pieces, they ended up giving Yami several forkfuls of each just to watch how fast he ate.

Of all the things he had never realized he could appreciate about having a real body, just as Aibou had pointed out, eating was perhaps the most glorious of them all.

He might even say it was better than the shower.

As Yami's mouth had been full for the majority of lunch, Aibou had answered most of the remaining questions and done most of the talking. But Yami listened, even if there wasn't much to say. They didn't know enough to give anything more than more questions themselves, with almost no answers at all.

Yami knew he should have been worried. And somewhere deep down, he was.

But right now he was more focused on wondering if Jounouchi-kun would turn out to be right that chocolate cake came back to haunt you in the end.

They were all fairly silent as they walked out of the restaurant and back into the bright and sunny day. It was still hot, but after sitting right by the window where the glass seemed to intensify the glow of the sun, this seemed to Yami a much better deal than sitting any longer in the booth.

Besides, he was starting to suspect that the last thing this new body needed was lots of unhealthy food without any exercise. He kept pace with everyone else with ease, standing next to Aibou as he always had, and furrowed his brow when he noticed the back of his head beginning to ache.

He shook it, frowning, and told himself to stop being paranoid.

Which was turning out to be a fairly difficult task in itself.

Jounouchi-kun, beside Aibou, suddenly straightened and held his head high, so before he even spoke, everyone turned their eyes to him like some public speaker at a celebration.

Or perhaps an escaped mental patient, as Anzu seemed to believe.

"Well, I say we head to Yuugi's house and wait for Ishizu to call back," Jounouchi-kun started, fairly out of the blue, but after all the strangeness of the day no one really minded the topic change. "She'd be the first person to know something about all this, right?"

Anzu bit her lip more obviously than Yami had ever seen her do. She tilted her head, smiling, though the smile didn't look real.

"Yeah, but … I mean, do we have to do it right now?" she asked, shrugging and grinning wider, her voice higher pitched than normal. "We just had lunch!"

This time, it was Honda-kun staring at her like she had stared at him so many times in the past, one eyebrow quirked in confusion as if Anzu and Jounouchi-kun had just switched brains.

"Anzu, I think this might be more important than letting food digest."

Jounouchi-kun poked out his bottom lip and thrust his fists down at his sides.

"Letting food digest is very important!"

"Right!" Anzu agreed, just as Honda-kun was opening his mouth to retort, and the smirk that had twitched onto Honda-kun's face turned into shock as he looked to Anzu to find her holding herself tall and confident, though nervousness quivered in her eyes.

She cleared her throat, and Honda-kun glanced away. Anzu coughed.

"So … maybe we could just hang out for a while," she suggested. She brought her hands behind her back and shrugged. "I mean … this is an … opportunity. Right? We can all hang out together."

She stopped there, and everyone looked at her. For once, there were no sarcastic comments, and none of them told her to stop being silly. Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun just stared with eyes that finally seemed to understand. Aibou reached out and brushed a hand along her arm, though he pulled back almost instantly.

He breathed out, and it made something deep inside Yami twist.

"I know, Anzu, but … something weird like this doesn't just _happen_," Aibou insisted, however gentle his words were.

Honda-kun huffed. He raised his eyebrows in agreement.

"Yeah," he murmured. "From what we're used to, I'd expect some evil dude to show up in about fifteen seconds."

Jounouchi-kun blinked, then lifted his wrist and glanced at the chipped black watch on his wrist.

"Exaggeration, Jounouchi!"

But Aibou just rubbed the back of his head, and even without their link, Yami didn't need to do more than look at him to see the discomfort plain in his eyes. He stayed silent, no matter how much he wanted to speak, and waited as Aibou let out a long and heavy breath.

"If we don't do something now, we might just be _waiting _for something bad to happen," he noted in a voice only a little unsure. He sighed again. "I … know we've never gotten this chance before, and it'd be great to just hang out together, but …"

He stopped there, his face finishing his words for them, and all eyes turned to him, solemn once again. Yami's eyebrows curled in sympathy, and though he wanted to put a hand on the boy's shoulder, he couldn't quite bring himself to move.

"Aibou …"

Aibou held his head up higher, and his face turned stern.

"We have to figure this out," he decided, and nodded once, mostly to himself. "Before we do anything else."

Yami opened his mouth, then closed it again, and Aibou kept that face of certainty Yami knew he could not refute.

Anzu, too, nodded as firm as she could, even if her face wasn't as sure. She flicked her eyes to Yami, then away far too fast for Yami to do more than recognize her gaze. The five of them just walked on until Honda-kun breathed out a quiet breath.

"So … to Yuugi's house?"

Jounouchi-kun thrust his fist into the air.

"To Yuugi's house!"

He pumped his arms at his sides and lifted his knees with each step in a march, his chin up and his eyes like that of a determined soldier going to battle. Or perhaps a clown dressed like a soldier at a circus who liked to pretend he was really going to do something worthwhile.

Honda-kun held back a snort.

"You know, Jounouchi, you won't get there any faster that way."

Jounouchi-kun kept his march and narrowed his eyes. "You asking for a race?"

"Only if you actually think you've got a chance."

"Is that an insult?"

"Only if you find it offensive."

"So you're—_hey!_"

Yami grinned as he watched the two of them in a glaring match, having totally forgotten their original intent. He chuckled and wondered whether he should start paying attention more when he was in the Puzzle, just to see if this sort of thing happened more often than he thought. He could certainly use for a bit of lighthearted arguing between those two—whether or not they viewed it as so funny themselves—in the darkness of the corridors of his mind.

Then, all at once, as if he had been struck, Yami jolted back and gripped both his hands to his head.

Pain. Pain coursing through him, wracking his body, through his blood, his chest, his skull. He squeezed his fingers through his hair, feeling it race through him like fire, burning him with each strike. He groaned, hardly aware of the sound, hardly aware of everyone stopping to rush back to him, hardly aware of their voices and cries.

His eyes shut tight, the blackness around him dizzying. He was standing still, or was he? He clutched his head tighter. Weakness, uncertainty, no matter how hard he squeezed. It weighed down on him like his head was beginning to split down the middle.

Falling. He was falling.

And all he knew before the blackness turned to nothing were hands on his shoulders, so faint, so distant, and a voice screaming so loud in his head, so vague, and yet nothing in all the world could have struck him so clear.

"_Mou hitori no boku!"_

Black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Whew… eight reviews, the first evening after posting, before I went to bed. And fifteen in total! _Fifteen! _I'm truly impressed. And flattered! Thanks, guys!**

**Therefore, I've done my best to get through finishing this chapter as soon as possible, hopefully without sacrificing quality. Unfortunately, as I have yet to finish Chapter 5, the time before the next update may be a bit longer, and I should warn you there may be a shorter (hopefully _much _shorter) hiatus as I prepare a few more chapters. But there's no big cliffie this time, though, so at least I can leave you guys with a bit more of a settled chapter as I go off to write more.**

**I will get back to your reviews as soon as possible, but to be honest, it's a choice between responding to all your kind reviews (which I am most grateful for!) and getting the next chapter up a little faster. I _do _respond to every review I can, unless one somehow gets missed: it'll just take longer.**

**Also unfortunately, I have to give my apologies for those of you who have expressed wishes or suggestions for future plot points: while you've all given great ideas that I would love to incorporate, I've got several future chapters already finished (though not yet polished) and most of the others extensively planned out, so any major changes are, at the moment, unlikely. However, the ideas are still most welcome, as I still may change some smaller things as the story goes on!**

**All I have to warn for in this chapter is slight fluff. This story makes it… kind of inevitable, really. You may take it as you wish, and I have no problem with that at all (believe me, I'm the last person who would), but I am only intending platonic bonds, particularly between two people/spirits who have been joined at the hip for over a year. That's just the way I roll. Dude.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

4

Darkness.

And pain.

The darkness he was used to, for all those hundreds, thousands of years spent drifting within the Millennium Puzzle. But the pain was new. The pain was overwhelming, throbbing through his head like there was something inside him trying to break out. Aching. Stinging. Cracking right into his skull.

"Mou hitori no boku?"

He opened his eyes.

The darkness dissipated, making room instead for a blur of colors he couldn't quite make out or even begin to understand. The light shot through his skull like fire, but a moment later that too faded to a duller ache. He tried moving a hand, but it stayed stubbornly limp at his side, so he was left to just blink as his vision began to clear.

Violet.

Shapes of violet—two of them, vague, unsure—formed into two big, wide, worried eyes, and another blink later, Yami found himself staring at a familiar face, surrounded by spikes of colored hair that hung near his face from how close to him the other had leaned, so much that one poke in the back probably could have knocked him over.

Yami wanted to offer a smile, but instead he just squinted and blinked again.

"Aibou …?"

The sigh of relief that followed knocked him out of his blurry trance and back into reality once more.

And reality involved the last remnants of the headache still pounding through his skull.

He winced, and noticed the unfamiliar yet easily recognizable sounds of similar relieved sighs echoing about the room. A brief glance around him confirmed that Aibou was not the only one nearby. He was half-surrounded—as apparently he was lying on the couch, and everyone had crowded on one side—by Jounouchi-kun, Honda-kun, Anzu, Jii-cha—Mutou-san, and, of course, Aibou, right at his side and finally deciding to lean back so he wasn't perched so precariously over the couch.

Yami tried one more time to move his hand, and this time he succeeded, and he used his elbow to push himself up just a little. Any more than a little and his headache seemed quite determined to return.

Aibou leaned forward, then back again, and sighed one more time. "You're okay …"

Yami rubbed at his eye and forced a nod.

"I'm fine, Aibou …"

He knew Aibou could tell he was lying, if only a little, but he did it anyway, and he felt no guilt when the boy gave him that distinctive quirked eyebrow that screamed disbelief.

But Aibou's disbelieving gaze was missed by the rest of the group, and Jounouchi-kun stumbled back and collapsed into a nearby chair as if he had just let go of the heaviest anvil in the world from on top of his shoulders. He sighed long and deep.

"Geez, man, you really had us going there!"

Yami tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it, and Honda-kun shook his head. "I think Anzu was about to have a heart attack."

Anzu said nothing, but the furrowed scowl and pink color that spread across her face sent the message plenty well enough.

Yami adjusted himself to lean on both his elbows. The world around him wobbled and spun every few seconds, sending each of his friends flying from left to right in his eyes, but he forced himself steady. He breathed slow, deep breaths and flicked his eyes to where Aibou was climbing onto the couch to sit near the small space on the edge where his legs hadn't taken up all the available couch. Yami sighed.

"I'm … I'm alright … just …"

He winced as another wobble threw itself at him, and one of the hands meant to balance him shot up to grip the side of his head.

It seemed only a split instant later that his head fell back, only to meet the softness of a pillow and the remnant feeling of the presence of a warm hand. He turned his gaze and found Aibou patting the side of the pillow. Aibou pulled his hand back, then scooted closer and took one of Yami's hands in his own.

Their fingers and palms brushed, warm skin meeting warm skin. Yami breathed out and met Aibou's gaze. He could not manage much, but he forced his lips into the tiniest of smiles and squeezed Aibou's hand in return.

Aibou seemed to be trying just as hard to keep the reassuring smile on his face.

Someone shifted, and Yami turned in time to see Anzu kneeling closer to the couch and biting her lip with such obviousness she might as well have announced it.

"What … happened, Yuugi?"

Yami and Aibou jerked up their heads in such unison it might have actually been funny.

A moment later Yami imagined Aibou blushing and turning away from the way the squeezes in his hand shifted, and Yami shook of his head. "I … have no idea. I just …"

"Fainted?" Jounouchi-kun broke in, a bit too eagerly.

Yami nodded. "My head hurt."

Honda-kun gave a half-bitter chuckle. "Yeah, that part was obvious. I've _never _seen a migraine that bad."

"Honda!"

"Honestly!" Honda-kun shot back at Anzu, eyes a little desperate. Anzu just groaned.

Yami adjusted his head on the pillow and ran a few fingers over the warm skin of Aibou's wrist, not caring if he noticed, feeling the pulsing life within him. "So … what happened after I …"

"You just fell over!" Jounouchi-kun leapt from the chair like a storyteller in the midst of a famed epic. "Honda and I caught you, but you were _this close _to hitting the concrete face-first and _man, _that would have left a mark!"

Yami blinked. Honda-kun shoved Jounouchi-kun aside and jumped forward.

"I swear, it happened in two seconds! You were just walking and—"

Yami knew they would have easily gone on like that for an hour. Even two, maybe, if Anzu hadn't slapped them both in the face by then. Their eyes showed enthusiasm Yami might have taken as offensive if he hadn't known the two so well: enthusiasm that could have held up for a grand long time.

If they hadn't been cut off by the distinctive ringing of the phone on the little table next to the couch.

Yami turned and stared at the large blue receiver and "deck," a wire Yami didn't know how he had failed to notice stretching out of his sight. It rung again, loud, obnoxious, quite nearly making the part of the headache that still failed to leave return full force.

He quirked a brow. "I didn't know there was a phone in this room."

"We brought it in here before you woke up." Aibou released Yami's hand and scrambled over to the little table as everyone stood close and watched him like he was pulling the winning card from his deck.

Aibou pulled the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" A pause. Not a shift from any of the four surrounding the boy. Aibou's lips turned into a grin. "Ishizu-san!"

Yami just about shot up, if it weren't for the voice in his head reminding him of the painful consequences of moving at all.

Anzu, Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun, however, leaned in with every bit of the same enthusiasm. As if they were about to learn some great and terrible secret, and if they couldn't lean in close enough to hear it on the other side of the phone line, they would never hear it at all.

Aibou blinked. "One second, let me put you on speaker …"

The four of them breathed out, and Aibou set down the phone and pressed a button on the deck.

"How's that?"

_"That sounds fine, Yuugi."_

It might have seemed like years since he had last heard the voice of the woman who had come in out of nowhere and changed all their lives before Battle City. And for Yami, that was reasonable, given that he had only a year's worth of memories to draw from. But he knew it had only been a few months, and she had yet to change a bit. Ishizu's voice seemed to resonate all around the room from the phone on the table, and all breathed a collective second breath, as if the fact that Ishizu was involved at all suddenly meant that the situation had resolved itself.

Anzu gave a small, nervous laugh to accompany her grin. "Good to, uh, see you again, Ishizu-san!"

_"Hello, Anzu," _Ishizu answered. Yami heard the smile in her tone.

Yami shifted on the pillow with every bit of care he possessed not to jolt his head. He balanced himself on the edge of the couch and tried to smile, even if he knew she couldn't see it.

"Hello, Ishizu."

It hardly required effort to imagine the person behind the voice jolting, the phone clutched tighter in a tan hand, that hand so very near to trembling. The voice stuttered.

_"… is that … Yuugi, was that you?"_

Aibou chuckled, almost bittersweet. "Well, not _me, _Ishizu-san."

A pause. Heavy. Everyone leaned in a little more. Yami shifted forward on the pillow.

_"… there was no joke in that phone call, then."_

"Sorry," Honda-kun broke in as Anzu opened her mouth to answer. He leaned back in the chair he had chosen. "He's all here, in the flesh." He flicked a glance to Yami. "Literally."

Yami wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or glare.

The voice hesitated. Yami wondered how long it had been since Ishizu was uncertain. _"… and this … just happened yesterday?"_

Aibou breathed a heavy breath. Something deep in Yami's chest constricted.

"Last night. Around midnight, I think."

"Exactly midnight, Aibou." Yami turned just enough to meet the big violet eyes on other side of the couch. "I saw your clock."

_"And you've both taken completely separate, functional, physical forms?"_

More definite now. Jounouchi-kun seemed conflicted between rolling his eyes and smirking. He jabbed his thumb toward Yami on the couch. "He can walk and eat by himself, if that's what you mean."

Yami shifted.

He was beginning to wonder if Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun were trying to lighten up the mood, or if they just found it hilarious to annoy him.

The voice was quiet for a long time. It was clear that Ishizu hadn't hung up or gone off somewhere. If he listened closely, Yami almost thought he could still hear her breathing. But she did not speak. No one spoke. Everyone listened and waited.

Ishizu's voice, breaking the silence, nearly shook. _"… this is quite the phenomenon."_

Honda-kun snorted. "You're telling _us._"

Yami adjusted his head again on the pillow, trying to push back the headache that threatened to return. That vague sting near the back of his skull, pulsing through his whole being. He turned his gaze to Aibou. Aibou looked back to him. The boy blinked, and not another second passed before he took his hand and rubbed the inside of Yami's wrist with his thumb.

Aibou smiled. And Yami let himself smile back.

The voice on the speaker coughed.

"_What were the circumstances of this … change?"_

She took a more professional tone with each word, much like she had that first day in the museum when she seemed to know everything there was to know. Like an interviewer interrogating one who had just witnessed an alien abduction.

Another cough, quieter this time. _"Is there anything in the surrounding time frame which might have been related?"_

All eyes looked up from the speaker. Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun and Anzu and Aibou. And Yami, moving so he could see everyone else without having to lift his head from the pillow, or move his hand from Aibou's grasp.

He felt Aibou squeeze his hand. But by the time he turned and tried to meet Aibou's gaze, Aibou had looked away, and a second later, he began.

It wasn't a long story. In fact, now that Yami actually heard it spoken aloud, even he had to admit that it was fairly simple, and even when he tried to think of something to add, he was left blank. Aibou explained everything in a much stronger tone than Yami would have thought him capable of. Definite, with only hints of uncertainty, hints here and there of doubt.

If he hadn't been trying to make his brain rest, he might have let himself feel truly proud.

Yami looked to the clock sitting on a second table nearby, and squinted to catch the ticking hands of hour and minute. It still just looked a blur to him from this angle, and even if he _had _been able to read it, he wouldn't have been able to tell how long Aibou had been talking.

But it seemed that after Aibou closed his mouth, the silence that followed lasted a good deal longer than the talking itself.

Aibou leaned back on the couch as much as he could with Yami's legs in the way, and Yami squeezed his hand a little more.

Ishizu sighed. _"Well._"

"Well?" Anzu prompted. She knelt in front of the little table, legs tucked under her, arms resting on the table and chin resting on her arms.

"… _I'm still not quite sure what to say. This is entirely new to me._"

Jounouchi-kun jumped up from the chair he had slumped over in, and if Yami hadn't known better, he would have thought the table shook.

"That's it?" He took a step forward, and even Anzu leaned back to avoid getting any nearer to him than she was. "You can't figure out why Yuugi, or the other Yuugi, suddenly just got a _whole new body out of thin air?_"

In any other situation, it would have seemed commonplace, even expected, for Anzu to tell Jounouchi-kun to shut his mouth and leave Ishizu alone. But Anzu said nothing of the sort. She frowned, and Aibou shifted on the couch. But everyone stayed silent.

It seemed a million years later that the speaker huffed out a quiet sigh.

"_It's just that, Jounouchi. There is no explanation for this I can think of, not with my current knowledge."_

Yami wondered if it might have felt easier, gentler, if Ishizu had popped out of the phone and slapped him across the face. It certainly would have been easier to understand, easier to take. A slap, he could react to. He could slap back. He could threaten or scold. He could form a definite solution.

But these words, words that meant no harm and words that made his head spin with uncertainties and thousands upon thousands of questions, hit something within him that could not defend, and could not fight back.

He opened his mouth, but Ishizu spoke first.

"_Rishid and I are currently hosting an exhibition in London. I don't think we would be able to make it to Japan until we're finished here, but, if you can, I'd recommend you come here. Perhaps meeting in person would yield more definite results."_

The last words dripped with hesitance, the kind given to soldiers before the heat of battle. Yami swallowed them, tasting their bitterness far down into his throat.

Honda-kun let his jaw fall open before Yami could begin to think of a word to say.

"_England_?"

Jounouchi-kun flicked his eyes to the side. "Yeah, Honda, London's in England."

"Is there anyone else who can help us, Ishizu-san?" Anzu broke in, and this time she leaned over just enough to give the ankles of both the taller boys a half-hearted smack. "Malik-kun, maybe?"

There was another silence. Brief, but it did not take much imagination for Yami to picture Ishizu fidgeting with her cell phone in hand.

"_Malik is in Egypt. I would send him, but he's been highly preoccupied lately with his own work."_

Jounouchi-kun put his elbows on his knees, turning a quick glance to Anzu as if afraid she would slap him again. "Don't you think this is just a _little _more important?"

Ishizu quieted. Jounouchi-kun said nothing else, and Anzu seemed to be using every bit of her self-control to resist telling Jounouchi-kun to shut up.

The voice on the speaker turned calculating, and only just short of cold. _"In the aftermath of Battle City, there are still many issues left to work out. Malik has been doing his best to clean up the last of the mess he created with the Ghouls. A significant trip now would not only be difficult, but may ruin all of the efforts he has put forth so far." _Another pause. Her tone shook, only just, as if she was actively holding it back. _"He has been under enough stress recently as it is."_

Anzu scooted to the side and gave a sharp jab with her elbow into Jounouchi-kun's knee.

Ishizu sighed a heavier sigh.

_"I'm afraid that's all I can offer. Believe me when I say I wish there was more I could do."_

Aibou released Yami's hand, and Yami turned his head to find Aibou staring at him with eyes that made something deep within him twist and constrict. He wanted to clutch his chest, clutch the hand that had let go of his. But he stayed still, and Aibou let out a long breath, weighted and cold. Never in his existence had Yami felt more useless.

"Thank you, Ishizu-san. We'll let you know."

_"Yes, Yuugi. I send my best."_

The speaker clicked. Anzu reached over and placed the receiver back in its stand.

Everyone looked at one another, and all the silences up to that very moment paled in the heavy quiet that settled over them all right then.

Jounouchi-kun leaned back in his chair.

"So … anyone got five plane tickets to England they're not using?"

Honda-kun scoffed and squeezed his fist for a punch, but did not aim it. "Yeah, Jounouchi, like we've all got the money to go to _London._"

Aibou might have said something to the contrary. Something optimistic, as he often did, whenever things seemed hopeless. But Aibou did not even open his mouth. He remained on the couch, his spine hunched and his fingers twiddling together in his lap.

Yami didn't know everything that went on in the Mutou household. But even he had been aware enough to remember the day just last week when Jii-chan had bought the ticket to Cairo. Aibou refused to tell Yami how much it had been—and Yami somehow doubted he would understand the answer he was given, however much he _did _understand about modern Japanese currency. But Yami knew well enough from the look on Jii-chan's face that plane tickets did not come cheap.

And plane tickets to England, if his geography was correct, were hardly going to come much cheaper.

Yami jolted when Anzu stood fast enough to make the little table shake. She balanced herself, dug into the side pocket of her skirt and pulled out her pink cell phone with a charm dangling off the end, and flipped it open.

Jounouchi-kun quirked a brow with a hesitance that suggested he was expecting another blow.

"What are you doing, Anzu?"

Anzu looked at her phone, then at Jounouchi-kun, then around at Honda-kun and Aibou and Yami at last. She held her gaze on Yami the longest, her eyes swirling with so many thoughts and emotions Yami doubted anyone could read them all. Then she let out a long and frustrated breath.

"Probably something stupid."

Honda-kun held back a snort. "Never thought _she'd _admit to _that._"

Anzu did not even glare. She merely pressed her thumb to the buttons on her keypad and brought the phone to the ear.

If he listened very close, Yami could hear the phone on the other end of the line begin to ring.

* * *

><p>"Oh, <em>come on, <em>Kaiba, you're _loaded, _one trip to London won't even make a dent in your back pocket!"

It was the sort of dialogue that likely would have made Yami snort to keep back his own laughter, if it weren't for his own stubborn pride that would not allow him to do more than just stand there and listen. The words, of course, fit the speaker, and the situation, he was sure.

But still. Finding humor in everyday matters was something Aibou had somehow succeeded in teaching him, and now, he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep himself from snickering.

Anzu turned as sharp on her heels as her house slippers would allow without slipping. She had, at some point, apparently decided to take out her frustration on her cell phone and hold it to her ear with such fervency that Yami wondered how she still _had _a right ear. And that fervency only increased with her eyebrows lowered in a threat unique to her, and she raised a finger to her lips in a motion Jounouchi-kun had apparently learned long ago meant business.

He clamped his mouth shut.

"Jounouchi! …yes, Kaiba-kun … No, I promise, we're not lying! … Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but you were there in Battle City, and with Doma!"

Yami was sure Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun would have given anything to hear both sides of the conversation. Aibou probably would have given a lot to hear it as well, but Aibou, being as he was, simply stood to the side and waited with a patient air Yami couldn't quite bring himself to envy, but still sometimes wished for in himself.

Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun, on the other hand, had no such patient dignity, and snuck as close to Anzu as they could when she turned away, trying to catch snippets of the voice on the other end of the line.

Honda-kun, apparently the daring one this time, took a bigger step forward, and Anzu turned on him with such ferocity that it sent him scrambling all the way back to the front door.

She breathed a quiet sigh indistinguishable from a normal breath, and nodded though she knew the person in question would not see.

"…I know it's not your problem. … No, there is _no _other way we can get there, Kaiba-kun, we don't have the money …"

Even Yami couldn't quite keep himself from leaning in, though he knew that wouldn't help him hear any better. He had finally managed to stand without much trouble about a minute into Anzu's call, deciding that being on equal ground with the others was worth his headache. Aibou occasionally pushed him back down to the couch, but Yami would stand right back up not a few seconds later, and watch with an interest he hadn't even expected in himself.

Anzu went quiet for a few moments, her expressions changing as if she was listening to something of grave importance. Aibou leaned in as well, not enough to be caught but plenty enough for Yami to see.

Anzu nodded, though her listener couldn't see it. "Yes. Alright."

She held the phone a little away from her ear, and Yami was almost sure he could hear faint music from the receiver of the phone.

Honda-kun gawked.

"Did he just put you on hold?"

Jounouchi-kun's jaw fell. Anzu lowered her brow in threat.

"Mokuba-kun came in, they're talking," she hissed back, her hand sliding up to cover the mouthpiece of the phone. Honda-kun crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. Anzu opened her mouth, then shut it as her hand dropped from the phone pressed near her ear. "Hm? Yes …"

Aibou looked at Yami, and Yami looked at Aibou. Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun flicked fairly obvious glances to one another, making faces they didn't seem to realize were clear enough for Anzu to catch. But Anzu just blinked as she held the phone even closer to her ear, and her big blue eyes went wide, her lips turning into a grin.

"… yes. Yes. … thank you! … Yes. Yes, I'll tell them. Thank you, Kaiba-kun."

She suppressed a cheery, triumphant giggle and flipped the phone shut.

Jounouchi-kun only just kept his eyes from bulging from his head.

"Kaiba said _yes?_"

Anzu's smile did not falter. "Not at first. I guess he changed his mind after he talked to Mokuba-kun."

"I love that kid," Honda-kun muttered to no one in particular, arms crossed over his chest and head shaking back and forth.

Aibou let his eyes gleam.

"So he'll get us a flight?"

If it was even possible, Anzu's grin grew. "Even better!"

A pause. Stares. Jounouchi-kun furrowed his brow. "Huh?"

Any logical sense would have told Yami that Anzu had lost it. But logical sense and past experience also told him that when Anzu had a good feeling about something, that was probably good reason to trust it. Even still, he had a very difficult time feeling secure at the near-ridiculous smile still evident on Anzu's face as she clasped her hands together, suddenly looking about five years old.

"He got us a private jet!"

And the dam waters broke.

"A _what?_" Honda-kun quite near gawked.

Anzu grinned the same as before. For once, she took no notice of the strange looks Jounouchi-kun gave. Her voice pitched high, as if she had just been told she received a full scholarship to the best dance school in America.

"He says it hasn't even been released yet. KaibaCorp's been developing autopilot jets modeled off of the remote-control rescue helicopter he saved us with in Battle City, out on the docks." She clapped her hands together, once, twice, and her teeth shimmered with the grin that stretched almost to her ears. "All to ourselves, the whole thing!"

Jounouchi-kun quirked a brow that made him look more like an accomplished scholar than an aspiring pro duelist.

"So Kaiba's getting us a … remote-control jet?"

Anzu's smile finally waned, and even Yami had to admit it felt like the tension in the room had dropped off its peak. "It's a little more complicated than that, Jounouchi."

Jounouchi-kun shrugged and turned away like a child deprived of his glory. "Sounds like a remote-control jet to me."

"Did he believe us?" Aibou broke in before Honda-kun could give the sarcastic comment Yami was sure was on his lips.

Anzu shrugged, brow furrowed, then shook her head.

"I don't think so. Not all the way, anyway." Her lips twitched up again into a smile much more tame, and which didn't make her look like the bubbly girls in the billboard advertisements scattered around Domino City. "But he got us the jet, so that has to count for something."

Yami just nodded and tried very hard to keep himself from frowning.

Anzu crossed her arms. "It leaves tomorrow out by the warehouses on the edge of town, eight sharp."

"_Eight?_"

"Oh, come _on, _Anzu!"

She shot glares at Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun that somehow seemed much more characteristic of her than the huge smile of not half a minute before.

"The flight's eleven hours long! We'll get there late as it is! Then there's the time zone change, so we'll really get there right on time in the morning, and we still have to—"

Aibou stepped forward and smiled as she opened her mouth again. "Thank you, Anzu."

Anzu turned and closed her mouth. She smiled at Aibou, then at Yami, as if she was smiling at the only two sane people left in the world. She nodded.

"I'd better let Ishizu-san know."

With one more smile that lasted longer than Yami would have expected, the sort of lingering contentedness of which she did not want to let go, Anzu flipped open her phone once again.

Honda-kun crossed his arms over his chest. "So … we're going to England, I guess?"

Jounouchi-kun nodded, a grin evident on his face. He opened his mouth with what seemed to be a million wonderful things dripping from his tongue, before his smile drooped, and his arms fell helpless to his sides.

"… how am I supposed to talk to anybody?"

"In _English?_" Honda-kun shot back.

"I can't speak English!"

"Haven't you been paying _any _attention in class?"

"I've had better things on my mind!"

"What, Duel Monsters?"

Jounouchi-kun seemed to try very hard—and failed quite terribly—at keeping the blush from his cheeks. He tightened his fists at his sides. "Like I said! Way better things!"

Anzu rolled her eyes as she wracked her brain for the numbers to dial into her phone, and Aibou laughed out loud, that laugh resonating throughout the room. It faded into a quiet smile, proud and true on his face, and eyes that sparkled when he turned his head and let his smile soak into Yami as well.

Yami rubbed his hands together behind his back. Fingers twiddling, nervous twitches, uncertainties that raced through him much like they had long ago when he knew something was wrong, something was off, but he couldn't yet tell what or why or how. A million possibilities ran into his head, too fast for him to identify even one. Loud and quiet. Soft and sure. Swirling and screaming to make themselves known.

He opened his mouth, then, a moment later, let it close. He shook his head, just enough so he could feel it, and he let his lips turn into a smile given to Aibou in return.

He wondered if perhaps he was getting far too worrisome for his own good.

* * *

><p>Mutou-san gave him a futon.<p>

It still felt strange to call him that. It wasn't like he _couldn't _have called him Jii-chan, as he always had in the past. Yet somehow it felt wrong. And the last thing he needed right now of all times was to mess up something as simple as being polite.

Still. "Mutou-san" was just strange.

He sat down with all the formalities he had learned—though he still sat cross-legged, even with his vague memory of someone saying it wasn't the most proper way to sit in this country. The futon, laid out, was soft and comfortable, and overall, it looked like a fairly good bed. Apparently it was a lot more comfortable than the couch, which Yami hadn't actually tried after his incident with fainting, so he was just going to trust everyone else on that point.

Aibou had gotten so close to offering him the bed while _he _took the futon in the living room. But Yami had stopped him before he could get past the first two words.

He heard something like a giggle from the doorway to the room, and he looked up.

He knew it was Aibou without seeing him. The voice was familiar. He couldn't sense him now, not like he could before—and that made something within him ache almost as bad as his head that afternoon—but he still _knew _when Aibou was nearby. He supposed Jounouchi-kun would call it a sixth sense. Anzu might call it magic.

Yami just called it a bond, built over a long time of sharing the very physical vessel to which they were both tied.

Or had been.

He quirked an eyebrow when Aibou giggled again, this time glancing away and covering his mouth, as if those giggles were already threatening to turn into full out laughter. "What is it?"

Aibou stifled what _almost _sounded like a snort. "Just … nothing."

"It is definitely not nothing, Aibou, what is it?"

"Well, you …" Aibou removed his hand, but pressed his lips tight to hold back a laugh that racked through his body. "Looking at that futon … you look so … _confused._"

Yami blinked, and a part of him reminded him that that blink was, in fact, real. "I _am _confused."

"I know, it's just …"

Aibou laughed again, this time not even restraining it, and Yami sighed and rolled his eyes. But he smiled nonetheless. Some leftover instinct from his early days made it difficult to feel annoyed when Aibou was so happy. Still, he tried to adjust himself on the futon so he looked a bit more dignified, and he began unfolded the blanket he had been given to lay out.

After a moment, Aibou's laughter ceased, and Yami watched the bare feet and pajama-clad legs walk over and sit down next to him on the large, thin mattress.

"I guess Jii-chan couldn't find any pajamas for you, then?"

Yami glanced in indifference at the same black sleeveless shirt and dark pants he had been wearing since he came into this world. They hadn't really been dirtied, since apparently—or so Aibou said—he had a miraculous ability not to sweat, but Mutou-san had helped him pick out a replacement pair for the next day. Aibou's clothes fit him, though they were a bit small, but apparently Aibou only kept two identical pairs of pajamas. One was in the wash—Aibou's mother was away on some trip, and Mutou-san had no clue how to do laundry—and the other lay in front of him, wrapped around Aibou, who suddenly looked very small.

He shrugged. "This is fine. I like these clothes."

Aibou quirked his head like a little child contemplating the oddities of another world. "If you're sure."

Yami gave a quick and curt nod.

"Aibou."

Aibou looked at him. It was the same look that Aibou always gave him when he was about to ask a question, when Aibou had no idea if he would be able to answer but nonetheless opened himself to give anything he could. But somehow that gaze caught him, more so than before, and Yami felt that those big violet eyes had grown up in the course of a day, and suddenly they bored into his soul.

He breathed out a breath that was not quite like a sigh. "Is everything alright?"

A moment's silence. Just a moment, then Aibou jolted and blinked.

"Of course!" He rubbed the back of his head, and his mouth twitched up and down as if it was debating with itself as to whether or not to grin. "I mean, besides the whole 'new body' thing … which isn't bad, really, I'm happy you've got your body, I just—"

"Aibou."

Yami narrowed his eyes in a quiet knowing even he did not understand. This time, it was Aibou who sighed.

Of the millions of things Yami wanted to say to the boy sitting next to him on the futon, Yami could find very few that he thought he could actually push past his lips. He swallowed, as if there was some deep secret even he didn't know that kept trying to force its way up his throat, and he had to work every muscle of his being to keep it back. Keep it contained. Silent.

He stretched his arms behind him and balanced his weight on his wrists.

"I know what you mean. It's … very new," he muttered. He twitched and rubbed his wrist with his thumb. "All of it."

Aibou bit his lip. "Is there anything I can do to … help?"

Violet eyes shimmered, and Yami wanted nothing more than to scoot forward and embrace the young teenager staring at him from such a short distance away. But he kept his place, let his lips turn into a smile, and hoped that somehow, that small gesture would be clear.

"I'm fine. It just takes … getting used to."

Aibou nodded, like one nods to something one finds obvious but does not mind hearing again. He crossed and uncrossed his legs as Yami watched. He clutched his ankles and rocked back and forth like a cradle, and his eyes turned to meet Yami's as he released a long but quiet breath.

"So," he started, voice hesitant but clear. He glanced away. "England."

Yami cocked his head and nodded. "Maybe Ishizu will know something about all of … this."

Silence. The ticking of the clock somewhere in the room Yami had yet to discern, the shuffling of feet upstairs as Mutou-san prepared for bed. And finally, Aibou huffing a sound and shaking his head like he had just been told he was to receive KaibaCorp for his birthday.

"Man, _England _…"

"What about it?" Yami shifted and resisted the urge to smirk.

Aibou shook his head, and the spikes of his hair swung back and forth, bangs bouncing and almost glowing in the pale overhead light. "I never thought I'd get to go to _England!_"

"Aibou, we've been all across Japan, to America, a private island …"

"I know, I know." Aibou laughed a sort of half-laugh, with a discomfort that was far from bitter tingeing his voice, and disbelief evident in his tone. He sighed very long and very loud, and his eyes settled on Yami, and the glimmering in them grew serene. "We seem to be going pretty much everywhere, don't we?"

Yami wanted to frown. He kept it back. "Our adventures tend to _take_ us everywhere."

Aibou laughed again, and this time, the bitterness was difficult to hide.

"Right."

He looked away, and no matter how much Yami wanted to speak, the words caught in his throat, screaming at him but never coming out, and he was struck silent for an eternity and a day. And yet Aibou lifted his head as if it had only been a few ticks of the clock, and breathed again.

"I never thought I'd go to Egypt, either."

He did not quite meet Yami's eyes. Yami shifted, aching with every fiber of his being to stop the pain that flowed from this innocent young boy. But Aibou stared at the ground, and Yami swallowed as faint words pushed past his lips and into the world.

"Are there many things you'd like to see?"

Aibou didn't blink. "I don't think there'll be much time for sightseeing."

"… right."

The simple tone in Aibou's voice made something deep within Yami weigh down again. It was a pain he knew, a pain he had grown quite familiar with through all his time in the Puzzle. But it was realer now, and heavier, now that he had actual weight to link to it. He had a body. And the chest that concealed the deep, unforgiving ache was real, too, and he had to do all he could to keep himself from raising a hand to clutch it.

But he forgot about his hand and the aching in his chest when Aibou's face turned once again cheery and bright. His lips curled up, and in an instant, Aibou was there again, just the same as before.

"But hey! England! I've read all about it, it's supposed to be great! Good food, all this stuff to see, and great free English lessons, just walking around!"

Yami grinned, a small grin compared to the perky one stretched across Aibou's face, but a grin nonetheless."Is it big?"

"London?" Aibou stretched his thin arms out to the sides as far as they would go, and quite nearly bumped the little table with his thumb. "Huge!"

A chuckle that Yami was not sure was real pushed its way past his lips, and he adjusted himself on wrists that were beginning to ache and gave a hint of a nervous grin.

"Just … make sure I don't get lost."

Aibou's smile kept up, and he nodded with the faintest hint of a laugh. "Don't worry. We'll stay together."

And it seemed only a moment later that the words soaked into both their minds like water soaking into a lung, and the ache in Yami's chest stung again, and the smile that had yet to leave Aibou's face changed into something that made Yami want to lean forward and hug him again.

Then Aibou stood.

"Well, we've got a _big_ day tomorrow. Not to mention a long plane ride." The chuckle that pushed past his small lips this time was forced, airy, as if someone had snatched it from the depths of Aibou's being and screamed it into submission, and now it was only a fragment of the joy it had once contained. He rubbed his arm, and the not-so-real smile twitched smaller again. "We should get to bed."

Yami almost opened his mouth to speak. But he didn't. He just nodded and tried his best not to look sad.

"Goodnight, Aibou."

The boy breathed out, not heavy or long, and leaned his head in the direction of the one who had once vowed to protect him."Goodnight, mou hitori no boku."

He turned and took one step away, then turned back once more and met Yami's silent gaze.

Aibou swallowed more obviously than Yami knew someone could, and his fingers twitched at his sides as if they were trying to speak. His voice came gentle. The same gentle voice that had been his light, his kindness, in the earliest days of his being.

"If you … need anything, just let me know, okay?"

Yami smiled, and somehow, that smile held more than any words could begin to express.

"Thank you, Aibou."

Aibou lingered for what felt like a long time. He stayed, and he never once looked away. Violet eyes locked in violet eyes, one with a faint smile and the other with the quirked features of one who did not know what was to come next.

But as the closing door of Mutou-san's room upstairs announced the hour, Aibou turned on his heels and scuttled off.

And for a very long time, Yami just sat there and watched the spot where he had been.

* * *

><p>It felt wrong.<p>

Not that it wasn't comfortable, because it was, likely more so than he had felt so far, even given the short amount of time he had been _able _to feel at all. It was soft and thick enough to cushion him without sinking into it like one of those "water beds" he saw on a television commercial that made Mutou-san laugh.

The room was dark, light streaming in from the moon and stars through the window, and he had long since adjusted his arms behind his head so he could stare up at the ceiling. So far, he had counted twenty-seven tiny cracks. He would tell Aibou tomorrow morning.

He had had no trouble sleeping last night. But then again, he couldn't remember falling asleep at all. Just that vague memory of being strangely "out-of-it," as he had once heard Jounouchi-kun describe, and just wanting to lie down. Actually sleeping had never once crossed his mind.

And yet he had. For the first time in three thousand years.

Aibou had told him about dreams sometimes. Not a lot, but enough for him to understand what they were, to even tell himself that he had had them in some distant past. The dreams that filled his first night's sleep had all been vague and unreadable, and he couldn't remember anything of them except blurs of color and rushes of confused emotion. Nothing tangible. Nothing he could examine.

He had been glad to wake up, glad to know that despite all the insanity, he was still here, and Aibou was still with him. Somehow, that made him secure.

The exact security he somehow _lacked _right now.

He rolled onto his side. Off. He tried his other side. Still off. He lay on his back and his stomach and tried both his sides again, and he stared at the ceiling for several minutes more. Nothing worked. He had known even before he tried that nothing would, but he had to, just for the sake of saying that he hadn't given up without a fight.

Yami didn't have a very concrete idea of the passage of time, likely because of how long he spent in the Puzzle even nowadays. Time was uncertain in the Puzzle, distorted, sometimes shortened and sometimes ridiculously lengthened. So he wasn't sure if he had been lying there ten minutes or several hours. But any sounds of Mutou-san or Aibou moving about upstairs had long ceased, and he knew that by now, whatever time it was, everyone else was asleep.

And he wasn't.

Blast.

There were a million things he knew he could do. He could get up and get himself something to eat, even though he wasn't hungry—food sounded very good after finally getting to taste so much of it for the first time. He could walk around outside the house, and try to be quiet so he didn't wake anyone up. He could look at all the games Mutou-san had stocked in the shop-front. That sounded like the best option, but even that fell short.

He knew he needed to sleep, but he also knew that no matter how much he lay there, staring at the ceiling, it wasn't going to help. Even if he walked around or looked at games or found a nice sweet dessert, he would still be left with that feeling of something being _off._

He knew he wasn't going to get rid of it easily. And he most certainly wasn't going to get rid of it here.

Yami pushed himself up on his elbows and got up as slowly and quietly as he could. He rubbed his arms and glanced around the room. Unfamiliar. New. No, he didn't like being here much at all. And he knew why.

He just didn't think he was crazy enough to do anything about it.

But apparently, he was.

Yami rubbed his eyes with his wrist and started toward the stairs. He didn't turn on any of the lights so as not to risk waking anyone, and ended up tripping or slipping on the steps twice on his way up, half from the darkness and his eyes failing to properly adjust and partially just his own yet-unestablished coordination.

The link wasn't there anymore. He had searched for it, especially when he first woke up that very morning. He had tried again and again to think to his long-time dueling partner, but he had never even made him blink. And yet the closer he got to his destination, the more he felt that sense of discomfort ease bit by bit. He breathed quieter and softer and fuller, and he felt somehow that everything was more right.

He could hear no thoughts and feel no emotions. But there was _something._

He paused in front of the door he had come to know so well and looked at it, for the first time _really _looking at it with his own new eyes. It was familiar, and yet so different. So new. Like he was a new-born baby just dropped off into the world without even properly knowing how to walk.

Yami placed a few fingers on the wood of the door, and he imagined he could hear breathing and feel a pulse behind it, even though he knew such a thing was both impossible and just flat-out silly. But he kept his hand there, and he closed his eyes briefly in a final question to himself as to whether this was really what he had to do just to get to sleep. He opened his eyes, and he nodded just a bit.

He turned the knob and opened the door.

Even with all the care he took, the door still creaked and the floorboards still squeaked. He paused after each little sound, not even breathing until he was sure he hadn't woken up the occupant of the room. He stepped quicker once he had established that little noises weren't going to wake him, and once he was a fair distance away, he reached back and pushed the door shut. He turned his head, slow, unsure, and looked toward the bed across the room.

His face had been tense ever since he tried to start falling asleep downstairs. Now it softened as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and saw the resting figure that almost seemed to glow under the moonlight from the ceiling window. The small form, lying on his side, eyes closed and spiky hair sticking out in all directions as it often did when he put his head to the pillow. The blankets hadn't even shifted from their neat place over his body. Peaceful. Quiet. Unlike any other human being he had ever met.

Yami smiled.

_Aibou._

He knew the link wouldn't work, but he thought it anyway, and he nearly jumped when Aibou twitched and adjusted himself under the covers. He watched Aibou settle again, and he watched him breathe. It was still strange, not being able to _feel _him there as a part of himself. But being here brought Yami some odd sense of ease.

Yami took another step forward and noticed a golden gleam on the sheets near Aibou's back. The Puzzle shone brighter the closer he got, as if smiling and waving like an enthusiastic child who had been separated from a parent. For the first time in a while, he noticed the lack of its weight—however inexistent that weight always was—around his neck, and swallowed as he moved his foot.

He walked, bit by bit, until he stood right next to the bed, looking down at its single occupant. Just that one young boy, not quite as innocent and naïve as he had once been, but still shining more than so many others his age.

Yami stood there for a moment. Aibou breathed quiet and slow. He was okay. Despite all of this craziness and all the craziness that was sure to come, Aibou was okay.

And at a leisurely pace but fast enough for him to notice and smile, the remainders of that unfamiliarity and strangeness left Yami's mind, replaced by comfort and safe.

He sighed.

He did not think as he sat down on the floor and found a spot very close to the bed. None of the floorboards creaked, and he settled himself on the carpet, not minding that the room was a little chilly in the night air or that he had no pillow other than his arms on which to rest his head. He looked up at Aibou, smiling just a little, until his eyes grew tired and began to shut of their own accord.

Yami breathed a soft breath, and the nearby presence almost seemed to place a blanket over his mind. The darkness settled in, as did the peace, and Yami let himself forget for a moment that so much was different, and that they had so much to deal with. So many new problems they didn't understand. Right now, Aibou was here and Aibou was safe, and they were together. That was all that mattered.

Yami gave an unnoticeable nod to himself and finally surrendered to the first signs of blurred blackness and swirling colors and images that were not really there, and at last, to sleep.


End file.
